


A World Where There Are Octobers

by Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Autumn, Cameos, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Farmcore Aesthetic, Food, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, I'm Bad At Tagging, Light Angst, Mild Language, POV Rey (Star Wars), Pumpkins, Romantic Fluff, Slow Romance, Soft Ben Solo, Star Wars References, cottagecore aesthetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium/pseuds/Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium
Summary: My first ever totally AU SW:ST story.The fluffiest concoction I have yet produced.Seriously, folks. If you shake this story hard enough, candy corn will fall out.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Paige Tico, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 277
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter 1

Folks mostly left Chandrila the minute they got the chance, but not Rey.

Sure, the closest shopping center was nearly an hour away. But who needed fancy clothes or could afford to pay those prices anyway? And there might only be a few restaurants in town, but if one of them was Paige and Rose’s tea shop, what could be better? The way Rey saw it, everything a person needed was right here in this valley.

She had lived in Chandrila her entire life, or at least all of it that she could remember. Grandma Maz encouraged her to go see the world before she passed, but Rey had no such desire. This was home. She was safe here.

The truck kicked up plumes of dust as she raced down the lane. She was running late—no surprise there—drumming her fingers distractedly on the wheel in time with the radio. Han was pretty easy going but this week his temper was quicker than usual. She didn’t want to start the day off by getting hollered at.

Kessel Run was not the largest farm in the county, but it had rich soil and some of the prettiest views anywhere in these parts. Rey started working for Han straight out of high school. At first, she did odd jobs around the place, proving she wasn’t afraid to get dirty. Once Han trusted her, they worked together on bigger projects. She helped him design a better irrigation and drainage system for the upper fields. They built a large, mobile chicken coop that enabled them to more easily spread each day’s fertilizer production. And then Rey talked him into creating a farm share program. A few days each week she ran boxes of produce and bouquets of flowers all over the area. It was more labor intensive than setting up a table at the farmers market, but they had loyal customers and a more reliable income stream.

Truth be told, Rey wasn’t certain Han even needed the income. His wife came from old money and a local political dynasty; her mother had been the first female senator elected in the state. Han never talked about that, not that he talked a great deal in general. He focused all his energies on running the farm. Rey didn’t have much interaction with his wife; Leia was a community organizer and spent most of her time traveling around giving speeches.

Even with the truck windows open, she could feel beads of sweat running down her back. The heat had been punishing this summer and still, in mid-September, it was blazing hot first thing in the morning. Han was getting older and as tough as he was, she worried about him. She’d try and persuade him to take it easier today and he’d refuse, as usual, the stubborn old cuss.

The first thing she heard as she pulled in was the thunderous bark of the farm’s resident guardian. The shaggy mutt was so enormous that standing on his hind legs, his paws reached her shoulders. She laughed and scratched his ears as he assaulted her with affection. “Down, Chewie! Yes, I love you very much. Now get off me, you mad thing!”

But Chewie wouldn’t be dismissed so easily. He licked her face vigorously, his weight and enthusiasm knocking her back against the truck.

“Chewie, come here!” a familiar voice commanded, and the dog flung himself away from her, joyously tearing across the yard to his owner. “Leave the poor woman alone.”

“Morning,” Rey called, wiping slobber from her cheeks.

“Didn’t know you were gonna get an extra bath today,” Han quipped.

“I probably needed it.”

“Rough night?” She didn’t miss his glance down at a dented old wristwatch.

“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized, “but I’ve got a good reason.” She fell into step beside him as they walked toward the largest of the outbuildings, an enormous gambrel barn built more than a century earlier.

“Oh, I know all about your good reasons, you young people with no work ethic. You were probably out carousing ‘til all hours. Maybe you never even made it home last night.”

“Guilty as charged,” she responded airily. Han teased her like this because he knew precisely the opposite was true. Rey didn’t drink and she almost never went anywhere that didn’t involve farm business. Kessel Run was her life as much as it was his.

Inside, the barn was dark and blessedly cooler. “Actually, I was putting out the garbage cans before leaving and I saw Jannah. She runs by my house every morning.” Jannah was the principal of Chandrila’s K12 school. She and her husband, Finn, owned a horse farm west of the village.

Even with his back to her, Rey could feel Han roll his eyes. “Let me guess, you had a long chat about your latest, greatest idea.”

“I did. And she thought it was brilliant, thank you very much. She wants to talk more about it with both of us.”

“Oh no. I told you, you’re not dragging me into this one. I agreed to the market stall, and I agreed to you driving all over hell and back delivering boxes three days a week. I didn’t even object when you wanted to start making them little posies and selling ‘em to the tea shop. But there is no way on God’s green earth that I’m gonna let you trot me out in front of a bunch of snot-nosed kids and say, behold the ancient farmer as he goes extinct.”

“That’s not the point and you know it. I would help the kids plant a garden at the school, and the produce would be incorporated into their meals. There are a million different directions we could take it from there. Field trips to the farm, overnights or even work-study for the older kids. I was just reading about a city neighborhood that reclaimed an empty lot as a community garden and began selling salsa they made with their crops. The profits were rolled back into educational programs about healthy eating and becoming better stewards of the environment. It’s all about engaging the next generation. Unless you prefer to go extinct? Let whoever owns this land after you divide it up and pave it? Erect a massive parking garage?”

They had been bantering easily enough, but Han’s shoulders visibly tensed as she finished. She’d hit a little too close to home.

He reached the tractor and turned back looking…embarrassed? “That reminds me. I should’ve told you sooner but I wasn’t sure it was really gonna happen…” He trailed off uncertainly.

“What?”

Han took a breath, squared his shoulders. He looked like he was trying to resign himself to whatever he was about to tell her.

“My son, Ben, is coming home. He gets in tomorrow.”

Rey didn’t know very much about Han and Leia’s only child. Ben left Chandrila to join the military before she started working at Kessel Run, must be at least seven years ago now. She’d seen a few childhood pictures of him scattered through the house, though she didn’t go in there all that often. Young Ben had ears that stuck out and dark hair like his mother.

“Oh,” she said mildly. “That’s…that’s good news, isn’t it? It’s been a long time since he’s been back. You must be excited to see him.”

Han snorted. “Don’t I look excited?” he deadpanned.

Not sure how to respond to that, she asked, “Will he be staying long?”

The older man shrugged. “Who knows with that kid? He’s always done whatever the hell he wanted, consequences be damned. We may only make it a couple of hours or he might never leave. Could go either way.”

“Headstrong and unpredictable, then? Sounds like someone else I know.” She smirked.

“Smart ass,” Han shot back. “Actually, he’s a smart ass, too. The two of you should get along famously."

~~~~~

Saturday was market day. The village green in front of the library hummed with people buying fruits and vegetables, handicrafts and honey. Rey had been trying to persuade Han to add bee hives to the farm, but he argued they were stretched thin enough as it was. He wasn’t wrong. Rey had been suggesting for at least a year that they needed more help at Kessel Run, a change he obstinately resisted. Hadn’t it taken him all this time to break her in properly? Why would he want to start that rigmarole all over again?

The Tico sisters, Rose and Paige, kept beehives at their place out by the reservoir. They sold wildflower honey in their shop and alternated weekends staffing a table at the market. Today was Rose’s day, while Paige kept Tico Teas open for business.

“Armie’s coming by after the market ends to take me to eat, if you want to join,” she invited. She was knitting a beautiful, complicated scarf all out of keeping with the heat.

“I think he’d prefer to have you to himself,” Rey countered. “He can’t properly moon over you if I’m sitting there.”

“Stop,” Rose protested, but her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

It was a strange match. Rose was utterly in love with life. She never said hello when she could greet you with, _And how are you this beautiful morning?_ She was the sort of person who made everyone around her happier. And Armie…wasn’t any of those things. He was serious and reserved, just this side of pompous. He worked at one of the small offices downtown. Rey wasn’t quite sure what he did. She thought he might be a lawyer but by this point, they’d been going out too long for her to feel comfortable asking.

“If you don’t like him, you can just tell me. Paige certainly doesn’t hold back.”

“What a silly thing to say. Rose Tico, you are one of my oldest friends _and_ one of the best people on the planet. If you like him, that is proof enough for me that he is magnificent.” She winked across the tumbled piles of squash and sweet corn. “I assume he keeps his best material just for you.”

Rose burst out laughing. “People think he’s arrogant but he’s just shy. Honestly.”

“If you say it, I believe it,” Rey assured her. “And Paige knows how incredible you are. She just wants to make sure he deserves you.”

“Everyone deserves love,” Rose said simply.

Rey felt her chest tighten at the sentiment. “See what I mean? Best person in the world.”

“Stop,” Rose repeated. Then she lowered her voice. “Hey, who is that?”

The other woman followed her gaze across the green. She didn’t know everyone in Chandrila, but between her and Rose they could at least recognize all the regular market customers. Rose was focused on someone perched at the edge of a bench in front of the library. The man was very tall, that much was obvious even while he was sitting down. He had dark, wavy hair and sunglasses that obscured most of his face. Even so, Rey felt sure he was looking straight at her.

“The prodigal son has returned,” she murmured.

“What’d you say? Who is it?” Rose asked a second time.

“I think,” Rey responded, carefully moving to put a pyramid of tomatoes in the line of sight between herself and the mystery man, “that’s the infamous Benjamin Solo, back home from the wars at last.”

“Well, he is…wow,” Rose mouthed.

Rey hummed in agreement. “Do you know anything about him? Han almost never mentions his name. I don’t remember him at all—”

“—which you’d think we would, all things considered,” Rose concurred.

“Actually, I’ve seen a few pictures of him when he was younger. He’s improved considerably,” Rey whispered with a wicked grin.

“I don’t think he went to school in Chandrila. I think I’ve heard he went to Coruscant, maybe? And he’s older than us. He would’ve graduated a few years before Paige, I think. I’m pretty sure he’s staring at you.”

Rey risked a quick glance over the mums lining the end of the booth. Rose appeared to be right. “I suppose I should go say hello. It’d be a bit awkward to sit here all day then meet at the farm later.”

It took maybe ten seconds to reach the bench, but she was keenly aware of his gaze on her every step of the way. As she finally climbed the curb, he said suddenly, “Yes, thank you.”

That confused her. “Sorry?”

“I’m saying yes, I will accept your offer of a ride out to the farm. Thank you.” His voice was very deep.

“Was I offering? I don’t remember—”

“You’re sitting over there under that giant Kessel Run banner, which means you must be the girl my parents never shut up about. Since the market’s nearly over, I assume you’re gonna be heading back out there to drop off everything you didn’t sell.”

“Impressive, Mr. Holmes. But can you tell me what I had for breakfast based on the soil in my boot treads?”

He gave her a crooked smile but didn’t answer.

“Don’t you have a car?” she asked. “How’d you get this far?”

“Planes, trains and automobiles,” he answered lightly.

“Well, only one of those things comes into Chandrila. And I think we’ve established you don’t have one of those.”

“I flew into Coruscant then took the bus.”

“That only gets you as far as Naboo.”

“I hitched the rest of the way.”

She was vaguely shocked. “People still do that?”

He shrugged, standing up from the bench. He was a full head taller than she was. “I figured I was safe enough.”

“I’m sure your parents would have come to the airport to get you.”

“Sent you, more likely. No need for that. I made it this far. Now if you’d be so kind, you can get me the rest of the way there.” He stuck out a hand. “I’m Ben.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. His hand swallowed hers entirely. “So I gathered. I’m Rey. Welcome home.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay. Two chapters today. But that's it, you guys. I mean it! Don't make me turn this story around.

“Nice truck. What is it, a ’53?”

“Fifty-four,” she corrected primly.

“Ah, I see. You’re a truck snob, like my father.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I get it. When does the massive, hideously expensive restoration project start?”

Rey frowned. “This winter, when I don’t need it for regular deliveries.”

Ben hung an arm out the open window, catching the air. “You strike me as a planner. I bet you have color-coded phases mapped out on a piece of notebook paper somewhere.”

It was post-it notes, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “What brings you back to Chandrila after all these years?” she deflected.

Ben was quiet for a moment. “My mother asked me to come home for a visit. I just got out of the military this spring. You maybe already knew that.”

“I did. Short visit or long one?” When he didn’t respond, she added, “What, you’re the only one that gets to be curious?”

“I don’t really know,” he admitted. “Depends on how it goes, I guess. My father and I have a long, proud tradition of hating each other’s guts.”

She thought of Han’s gruffness, of how he held people at arm’s length. But he was also gentle and endlessly kind, though in quiet ways that didn’t want to be noticed. “Maybe now that you’ve had a few years apart, you can move past that.”

Ben huffed. “Spoken like someone who gets along with her family.”

“Finally, you missed one.”

“Huh?”

“You guessed wrong, Sherlock. I have no family to get along with.”

“None?”

She shook her head, the strands of her ponytail flicking against her damp neck. “My parents were killed in a car accident when I was three and my grandmother died when I was in high school. I don’t have the luxury of not getting along with them.”

That chastened him. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“Water under the bridge.”

She could tell he was startled. It was her standard response when anyone offered sympathy. A bit glib, but the best she could do. Her pain wasn’t anyone else’s business.

They came around the last bend in the road and Kessel Run was laid out before them, a cluster of red and white buildings dotting the hillside like wild mushrooms. From this direction they could just make out the sparkle of the Alderaan River, winding across the farthest corner of the property.

“There’s no place like home,” Rey quoted.

“So I’ve heard,” Ben said grimly.

~~~~~

Chewie was the first one through the screen door as they climbed out of the truck. He bounded off the porch, barking frantically at Rey’s strange guest. As far as she knew, the dog had never bitten anyone, but for an instant she was worried enough to step between them.

Ben didn’t look afraid. He crouched down and offered his hand, asking the excited animal, “Hey now, what’s this all about? I haven’t been gone so long you’ve forgotten me entirely, have I?” Chewie approached cautiously, sniffing and giving a tentative lick to Ben’s outstretched fingers. All at once he seemed to recognize the scent, and proceeded to launch his ninety-pound body into Ben’s arms.

By now, Leia Organa-Solo had come out to the porch to see what all the commotion was about. “Ben! How did you get here?” she cried, rushing down the stairs and pulling her much taller son up from the ground, then down for a hug.

“I met Rey at the farmers market and she gave me a lift,” he explained.

Leia beamed at the younger woman. “I should have known. Rey is a wonder. I don’t know how your father would manage this place without her.”

“I managed it alright for thirty years before she came along, let’s not forget,” Han said irritably, coming around the corner of the barn. Rey knew he wasn’t minimizing her contribution; Leia’s comment had hurt his pride. “No offense, kid,” he muttered, as if realizing too late how his words could be interpreted.

“None taken,” Rey promised.

Han and Ben stared at each other across the yard for what felt like an hour. Then Ben said, “Dad,” and nodded his head curtly in greeting. Han nodded back, before quickly turning to Rey.

“Let’s get you unloaded. I could use a hand in the back pasture. That gate’s off its hinges again. And then you should stay for dinner. Leia cooked enough food to feed a Big Ten marching band.”

“That’s kind of you to offer but I’m sure you’ve all got lots of catching up to do,” she demurred.

“Horse hockey. Stay.” To anyone else it might have sounded like a command but Rey understood it for what it was, a plea. Han desperately wanted a buffer against conversation with his own son.

“I made your favorite, chicken pot pie from Grandma Jobal’s recipe,” Leia was telling Ben. “And I’m not the only one that’s been busy. Your father picked apples and we made funeral cake for desert.” Rey had worked at the farm long enough to know that _funeral cake_ was, in fact, a decadent confection that got its name by being so frequently requested at local post-mortem potlucks.

“Not much of a crop to speak of this year,” Han said defensively. “Too hot and not enough rain. We had a bad hail storm a few weeks ago that did some damage.”

“I was hoping to make jelly but the grapes didn’t come on at all,” Leia added.

Ben hadn’t said a word since acknowledging his father but Rey could sense an odd tension building between the men. Han suddenly burst out, “Guess you’re glad you got out when you did, huh?”

Ben’s face hardened but he didn’t rise to the taunt. Leia sighed. “Could we not do this, please? He’s been home for less than ten minutes, Han.”

“It’s fine, Mom. I’m gonna get my duffel out of the truck. Thanks for the ride, Rey. Don’t skip dinner on my account.”

Leia glared at her husband. He merely shook his head. “Come on,” he barked at Rey. “Let’s go fix something.”

~~~~~

She didn’t have it in her to abandon Han to dinner alone with his family. It was a subdued affair. Leia tried valiantly to sustain a conversation but neither Ben nor Han contributed much. Once they finished eating, Rey volunteered to help with the dishes but Leia wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, Han was pressed into drying duty, a clear punishment for his earlier behavior.

She hadn’t been inside the old house too many times. It was neat and cozy, filled with furniture clearly purchased for comfort rather than any magazine notion of “country style.” There were a few watercolors hanging in the living room that all appeared to be done by the same hand, and a handful of family photos in mismatched frames scattered across the mantel. Two in particular caught her eye. One was an image of a stunning young woman with long ropes of curling hair. Right next to her, and canted as if to mark a relationship between the subjects, was a handsome young man in a military uniform.

It was evening now and a flickering light drew her attention outside. Ben had slipped out of the house and sat stretched across the porch swing, a few citronella candles keeping late-season mosquitoes at bay.

“Do you prefer to be alone?” she asked as she stepped out the door, pulling on the old cardigan she kept in her truck this time of year. It had a hole in the sleeve she’d been meaning to ask Rose to repair. “I won’t be offended if you do.”

“Make yourself at home.” He motioned to the open side of the swing. “What am I saying? This is more your home than mine at this point.”

“Don’t be absurd. You grew up here. I’m an employee.” She noticed the glass in his hand and smelt the sweet, smoky aroma of Han’s favorite whiskey.

“Hitting your dad’s secret stash already? Dinner wasn’t _that_ bad.”

He saluted her with the glass. “If he hasn’t bothered to move said stash in thirty years, that’s on him. You want some?” He nodded toward the floor and in the candlelight, she could just make out the curve of the bottle.

“No, thanks. I don’t drink.” He cocked his head in mild surprise. “It’s not a moral stance. I don’t judge anyone who does. The car accident that killed my parents? It was a drunk driving incident. So I wasn’t all that interested to begin with, then when I hit high school and found out alcohol was pricy _and_ tasted terrible? Hard pass.”

Ben chuckled softly, then leaned away and deposited his tumbler on the window sill.

“Honestly, you don’t have to do that. I’m not a teetotaler. I won’t lecture you about the evils of demon liquor, I swear.”

“It’s fine. And you’re right, this Corellian stuff doesn’t actually taste very good. Dad only buys it out of nostalgia, because he was born there.”

“I don’t think I knew that. He doesn’t talk about himself all that much.”

“That’s news to me,” Ben retorted.

There was a definite chill in the air, not all due to the weather. “I should probably get going. I’ve gotta be up early tomorrow.”

“Sunrise service?” he teased.

“Hardly. Haven’t you heard? Tomorrow’s Pick-A-Pumpkin Day.”

“Dare I ask?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I think the name is pretty self-explanatory. On Sundays in fall, we open up the west field to paying customers who cut their own pumpkins. Works out pretty well, actually. It’s a high-visibility event, we turn a tidy little profit, and they do all the work.” She fished her keys from her sweater pocket. “I have to be at the grocery store by six to pick up thirty dozen donuts and enough gallons of cider to fill half the bed of my truck.”

Ben snorted. “Mom wasn’t kidding. You are quite the go-getter.”

“And these are just the ideas Han lets me try. I’ve got a million more where they came from.”

“I’d like to hear them sometime.”

For some reason, that surprised her. “Would you? I could always use an extra pair of hands, if you felt like coming out tomorrow. We don’t officially start until ten o’clock, if that sweetens the deal.”

He leaned forward on the swing, elbows on knees. She could still smell the citronella and whiskey, blending together in the darkness. “What exactly would I be doing? I thought it was a self-serve type of thing?”

“I set up a little table next to the snacks with information about the farm shares program. People from all over the valley come out so it’s a great way to spread the word about other things we’re doing. I can usually cover both tables without too much trouble but sometimes it gets busy. Besides, what better way to let everyone in Chandrila know you’re home?”

He groaned. “You were making a pretty good pitch until that last part.”

They sat companionably, listening to the katydids and tree crickets fill the night with music. The clatter of ceramic dishes being stacked in a cupboard drifted out through the window screen.

Ben reached for the whiskey bottle. It glowed amber, backlit by fire. “What time should the donut and cider offloading crew show up?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this story suddenly stops updating, it's most likely because I've been raided by the feds for the frankly obscene number of "Adam Driver in denim" images currently living on my laptop.

“No, no, no. It’s even cleverer than that. They didn’t go to all the expense of putting up a bunch of cabins. They just built wooden platforms and then erected heavy canvas tents on them. That’s really all you need in the warm weather months anyway.”

Ben shifted four more empty jugs from the sticky refreshments table to a large recycling bin behind them. “And people actually pay money to do this?”

Rey winked at a red-headed boy returning for his third cinnamon donut. He blushed furiously and ran back to his family, clutching the sugary treasure to his chest in a bright orange napkin. “I read their blog religiously. Overnight- and short-term stays are one of their most reliable revenue generators. City dwellers who want to get ‘back to the land,’ Boy Scout troops, even corporate team builders. They’ve got an entire booking website, like Airbnb but for an organic farming operation.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Rey. It sounds like an awful lot of work. You’d need a full-time coordinator-slash-property-manager if it took off like you’re clearly hoping. And then aren’t your profits going straight to that person’s salary?”

She couldn’t answer right away, because she was greeting a couple she knew. Larma D’Acy was her self-defense instructor at the community center. Her wife, Wrobie, worked for an airline based in Coruscant and was often away from home. They seemed very happy to have a sunny Sunday together. As they strolled arm-in-arm into the field, Rey finally responded, “I could manage it, at least until we got it off the ground. We could start small, one or two rentals, and only scale up if the demand justified it.”

“Even starting small, you’d still need restroom facilities, a place to feed people, and all the health and construction permits required to make that happen. The upfront investments of money and time would be substantial. Scaling up would be easy by comparison.” He transferred more cider from the bed of the truck to the table, somehow holding three jugs in each hand. “And where would you find the time to do all this? From what I’ve seen in just the past eighteen hours, you do everything around here except my parents’ taxes. Hell, maybe you help with those, too.”

She swatted away a cloud of ladybugs drawn to the table by the sweet lure of apples and baked dough. “I can hardly manage my own, pitiful as they are. Though I did help your father burn quite a lot of old paperwork last year. Nothing incriminating, I’m fairly sure.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Please tell me he’s never asked you to help him bury any large objects under cover of night.”

She tugged an aluminum water bottle from the small cooler under the table. It was another hot afternoon. “I plead the fifth,” she teased, taking a long swig.

“Ben? Ben Solo?” A handsome man with dark, curly hair approached the table, wallet out to pay the admission fee. “Holy shit, it’s been a long time, man! How are you?”

Ben was shocked to be recognized, even standing on his own family land. “Hey, man. I’m good. How are you?” He dragged a palm across his t-shirt, trying in vain to remove the tacky residue before shaking the other man’s hand. “Rey, this is Poe. Poe Dameron. We, uh, went to school together. Rey runs things here at the farm.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rey smiled. “Care for a donut? We still have a fair few left.”

“Oh, no thank you. We just came from lunch.” Poe gestured toward a woman and a boy absorbed in a gaming console, both standing several yards away.

“Is that your wife?” Ben asked. He looked as if he were trying to place the woman’s face.

“Ex-wife,” Poe corrected. “You remember Zorri? She went to Panaka with us, moved to Naboo in middle school. Anyway, we’re doing the group family activity thing this weekend.” He gave Rey a tight smile. “Joint custody’s a real treat.”

Rey wrapped a few donuts in the festive napkins and pressed them into Poe’s hand. “Save them for later,” she whispered. He chuckled and shoved the bundle into his pocket.

“Thanks. Hey, Ben, we should catch up. I live over in Jedha but I’d be happy to meet somewhere for drinks. You here in Chandrila now?”

“Nah, I’m just home for a visit. This is my dad’s farm.” Ben looked distinctly uninterested in the prospect of catching up.

“When do you head back?” Poe pressed, not taking the hint.

Ben hesitated. “It’s, uh, open-ended at the moment.” He didn’t elaborate.

“What about next Saturday? Zorri’s got Jacob so I could meet anywhere.”

If Ben’s expression hadn’t been so obviously panicked, Rey might have sniggered. It wasn’t her place to intervene, but she found herself doing it all the same. “Oh, Ben, don’t forget. Saturday’s the festival. You promised you’d help with the pumpkins.”

He looked at her blankly. “The—?”

“Fall in Love with Chandrila Festival. Poe, you should come! It’s gonna be a lot of fun. Ben very kindly offered to help me carve about twenty-five pumpkins to decorate the gazebo. There’ll be kettle corn and crafters and live music.”

Both men were staring at her as if she had suddenly grown a second head. Truthfully, she was improvising. If she gave Ben a false alibi for one date, Poe could just propose an alternative. But if she suggested a crowded public event, Ben could decide how much time he wanted to spend with his old classmate. She hoped he’d still be talking to her later, so she could explain the beauty of the plan.

Poe recovered first. “Yeah, that sounds…great. Very seasonally appropriate. Maybe we can all grab lunch or dinner or something. Let me get your number, man, and I’ll get out of your way.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Have one what?” Poe asked, perplexed.

“A number,” Ben said shortly.

“You don’t own a phone? Seriously?” Ben was as curmudgeonly as Han, who also hated modern conveniences with an irrational passion. Of course, it was equally possible he just didn’t want Poe to have a way to contact him.

“We have to be done with set up at the gazebo by eleven. We could just meet you there?” she suggested.

The other man looked at her gratefully. He seemed to be picking up on Ben’s foot-dragging at last. “Solid plan. Thanks, Rey, it was good to meet you. See you guys next week.”

Almost before Poe was out of earshot, Ben rounded on her. “What the hell was that about?”

“I was trying to give you an out,” she stage-whispered. “You were being borderline hostile. Did you two not get along at school or something? He seemed genuinely happy to see you.”

Defensiveness swelled his frame, like wind in a sail. “I’m not good at the whole social niceties thing, okay? Never have been.”

As if to illustrate the point, at that precise moment a little girl ran up and tugged hard on the hem of his shirt. Ben glowered down at her in surprise, then wordlessly handed her a small cup of cider. She grinned in happiness before skipping away, spilling most of the drink as she went. The irritation melted out of him.

“Don’t say a word,” he ordered, pointing a stern finger in Rey’s direction.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she demurred, helping herself to the last cruller in the box.  
  


~~~~~

“Did you make that whole thing up?” he asked later, as they loaded the final table into the truck bed. “Fall in Love with Chandrila? For real?”

“Hey, I didn’t come up with it. Take it up with the Main Street group. It’s their party.”

“But all that other stuff? The twenty-five pumpkins you have to carve?”

“No, that’s all true. We donate them every year. I carve them and fill them with flowers and pretty leaves and things. They’re the gazebo decorations for the festival. People buy raffle tickets at the Friends of the Library booth and at the end of the day, the pumpkins all go off to good homes. The money pays for reading programs in the Children’s Room. Last year they made nearly $600.”

Even as she said it, she felt a tiny twinge of embarrassment. Ben’s family had money. It probably sounded stupid to him, expending so much effort for such a paltry sum. But he looked genuinely impressed. “How do you find time to sleep?”

“Sleep’s overrated.” She climbed up onto the tailgate and grabbed a cup and the last water bottle from the cooler. “Wanna share?”

He was nearly tall enough to just sit in the truck bed. Rey proffered the filled cup with the toast, “To another successful Pick-A-Pumpkin Day.”

“Cheers.” They tapped the containers together. “What’ll you be spending today’s filthy lucre on? Saving some heirloom tomato species from extinction? Sponsoring an agricultural foreign exchange student?”

“Very funny. Actually, I’m trying to persuade Han to let me develop a more robust internet presence. Ironically, he’s adamantly opposed to all the free options. He doesn’t want a Twitter feed or an Instagram page, but he’s open to the idea of a nice website. He likes supporting other local businesses. My friend Mitaka does really good work for very reasonable rates. The only thing is, he’s not a graphic designer. I need to find someone to create a logo and all of that. I keep meaning to ask your mother.”

Ben looked puzzled. “How could my mother help with that?”

“Isn’t she an artist? I always assumed she did the lovely watercolors in your living room.”

He had been raising the cup to his lips for a drink but stopped short at her question. “My mother didn’t paint those. I did.”

She nearly choked on her own water. “Well, you are full of surprises today. First the anti-technology stance, now this. I had no idea you were an artist.”

He drained the cup and tossed it back into the cooler. “I wouldn’t go that far. When I was younger, I was a real pain in the ass. I was one of those ‘bright kids who can’t be bothered to try and prove they’re bright,’ you know? My dad and I didn’t get along. I had a fresh mouth, always in trouble for some backtalk or other. But for whatever reason, I liked doing things with my hands. My mom bent over backwards to encourage it. She bought me modeling kits, drawing supplies, paint canvases…hell, she even gave me a calligraphy set one Christmas.”

She tried and failed to picture the massive man sitting next to her scribing fine curls and flourishes on a delicate sheet of paper. “Do you mind my asking why you and Han don’t get on? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. He certainly never does.”

“My mother thinks we’re too much alike. He could never forgive me for not wanting to stay here and be a farmer like him.”

“That’s understandable. It’s not an easy life to commit to.”

He gave her an appraising look. “You appear to be flourishing.”

“But I love doing it. I can’t imagine trying to sustain the energy to keep going, seven days a week, all year round, if I didn’t want to be here. You never had any interest in it?”

He shook his head. “I wanted to go out and see the world. Join the military and make a name for myself, like my grandfather.” The image of the smartly dressed young man on the mantel flashed through her mind.

“It wasn’t what you thought it would be.” She wasn’t entirely sure why she said it. Something about his tone suggested disillusionment. He looked at her sharply. “I’m sorry. I’m prying again. Tell me to mind my own business.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he said, “It’s getting late. You should come back to the house. I’m sure my parents have a pig roasting or something.” He slid off the tailgate and offered her a warm hand down, holding on just a second longer than was strictly necessary.

“You really don’t have to feel obligated to invite me to your family dinners,” she protested.

“Like it or not, Rey, you’re part of the family, too. Guess it turns out I was right about that after all.” He smirked at her as he made his way past to the passenger side door.

It was a good thing he was so bloody attractive, she decided. Otherwise he might be really insufferable.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without even realizing I'd done it, I deleted my outline for the remaining chapters. But have no fear! When I reconstructed it, I somehow ended up with more chapters. Lemons=homemade summer-luscious lemonade.

It happened on Tuesday.

Rey was making her way back from the south side of the village, dropping off crates bursting with hearty greens, beans and the last stragglers of the vines—refrigerator pickles made from late-summer cucumbers were a preferred local delicacy. She always planned her early-week route to hit Larma and Wrobie’s place last. Larma’s herb garden was small but splendid. The three women were trading notes on overwintering garlic when their neighbor, Jyn, began frantically waving and calling over the back hedge.

Like many of the older residents, Jyn had a police scanner. In years past, those with scanners spread news of trouble via the telephone system. Nowadays, they hopped onto the community Facebook page to get the word out. “Rey, Rey! There’s trouble out at Kessel Run. It just came over the scanner. They called for a Life Flight!”

The younger woman raced over, heart slamming in her chest. “What’s going on? Who’s hurt?”

“I didn’t hear. Only that they needed an emergency airlift to the hospital in Coruscant. If you leave now you might catch them.”

Rey was halfway to the truck by the time Jyn finished. She tore north, well over the speed limit, searching the skies for any sign of the helicopter. But it was already on the ground when she arrived. They were securing a gurney into place. Han’s thatch of white hair was all she could see.

Chewie barked furiously, incensed at being locked in the house alone. The yard was a pandemonium of noise and confusion. Ben was holding Leia, who looked grey and terrified.

“What happened? I just saw him this morning. He was fine,” Rey cried over the whirr of the rotors.

Leia shook her head helplessly. “He wanted to get started on running that fence line down to the river. I told him to wait and ask you or Ben for help but he was bound and determined to do it on his own. He hitched the big auger to the tractor and headed out as soon as you left. Somehow, his shirt must have gotten tangled in the bit. He—” Her voice hitched on a sob.

“Mom asked me to go check on him when he didn’t come home for lunch.” Ben took up the story, rubbing Leia’s back reassuringly. “I found him down there. The bit caught the sleeve of his shirt and twisted his arm around behind him before he could get free. Damn near ripped it right out of its socket. He was doubled over, couldn’t get loose. It was shady and windy where he was working near the water. The paramedics said if he’d been out much longer, the shock and exposure might have gotten him.”

Rey’s knees nearly buckled. There was too much activity around the copter to see Han clearly. “Is he conscious?”

“I don’t know. I kept him awake until the medevac got here. I don’t have a phone but thanks to you, he did. He told me you made him start carrying one in the tractor, in case of emergencies. It maybe saved his life today.” Leia covered her mouth, shoulders heaving.

A paramedic shouted across the yard. “We’re taking him in. You can meet him at the hospital. He’ll get there long before you do.” And then they were gone.

The yard was eerily quiet in the aftermath. They all stood, stunned and unsure what to do next. Chewie continued his protest.

“Leia,” Rey said, “can I make a suggestion? You should go into the house—I can help if you want—and pack a small bag. A change of clothes, a sweater, some warm slippers, maybe a book. The power cord for your phone, definitely. And maybe some hand lotion. I remember the ward being very cold and dry. You’ll want anything that will make you comfortable. The hospital is so far away that you know you’ll want to spend at least tonight there with him. Ben can drive you. I’ll look after things here, take care of Chewie. If there is absolutely anything you need—your reading glasses, a favorite pillow—anything you realize you forgot, whatever, you just have Ben call me and I’ll bring it. Anytime, day or night, okay. I’m fairly sure you have my number in your phone but if you’re willing to give it to me, I’ll check while you pack.”

Leia looked at her gratefully, wiping away tears. She handed Rey the phone from her pocket and patted the younger woman on the cheek. “You’re a lovely young woman and we are so fortunate to have you in our lives,” she whispered.

“Do you need help packing?”

“I can manage. It’ll give me more time to cry in private. Don’t need Han seeing that.” She gave Rey’s hand one last squeeze and fled into the house. Chewie’s barking died away now that he was no longer in solitary confinement.

Rey quickly scrolled through Leia’s contacts and found her number there. “Do you need me to show you how to use this? In case she’s asleep or…upset…” Her voice shook so she stopped talking.

Ben eyes were fixed on her, his expression soft. “Just ‘cause I don’t own one doesn’t mean I’ve never seen one. I know how to use it.” He took a step closer. She couldn’t look at him or she was going to start sobbing. “Mom’s right, you know. They’re lucky to have you. You know the first thing Dad said to me when I found him? He said, ‘Don’t tell Rey. She’ll confiscate my tractor keys. Make me sit at the farmers market like an old duffer.’ He thinks the world of you.” She heard the caring in his words, but also the hurt.

Her tears fell then, thick and fast. Ben slid forward and, with the briefest hesitation, pulled her into his arms. She wasn’t used to being held but it was exactly what she needed. His t-shirt smelled of the same detergent Han used. The thought made her cry harder.

The sound of Leia coming down the stairs carried outside and they pulled apart. Rey felt vaguely embarrassed, like a teenager caught doing something improper. Ben’s face was flushed; he stared at the ground uncertainly.

Leia was clutching a small, battered overnight bag. She had been using the same one for her organizing trips around the state for as long as Rey had known her. The handle had broken at some point and Han had rather crudely repaired it with baling wire.

“I think I have everything. Here are the keys, Ben. You better drive, I’m not that steady right now. Thank you again, Rey.”

Rey gripped her hand fiercely. “He’s strong, Leia. He’s the strongest person I’ve ever known. If anyone can get through this, he can. I know it. He’s too bloody stubborn to be brought low by anything this ridiculous.”

The older woman smiled tearily at her, then headed for the barn to climb into the car parked there. Rey offered Ben the cell phone still clutched in her hand.

“Thank you,” he said, his fingers sliding across hers for a heartbeat. “I’ll call you as soon as we know anything.”

After the car pulled down the dirt road that led out of the farm, Rey climbed the porch steps and let Chewie outside. The dog circled around and around her legs, desperate for reassurance. She sank onto the top step, rubbing her face against his woolly side, and wept.  
  


~~~~~

She cleaned up the remnants of the uneaten midday meal, finished the afternoon chores around the farmyard, and fed a forlorn dog who did not understand why his beloved master was not there to do the honors. At some point, it occurred to her that the tractor and auger were still parked by the river, but by then a light rain had begun to fall and she decided to leave that be until morning.

She also realized, as the sun dipped beneath the tree line, that if she were to leave she ought to lock up the house. But in all her years at Kessel Run, she couldn’t recall ever being there without Han or Leia around. She wasn’t sure where to find a spare key. And the idea of trying to cajole Chewie into her truck, away from his familiar surroundings, inexplicably set her crying again. In the end, she laid down on the living room couch, the dog curled up snugly against her, and fell into a fitful sleep.

It was long after midnight when she woke up. An old quilt was tucked around her shoulders. Ben was stretched out in the closest wing chair, snoring rather loudly. Terror flooded through her and she sat bolt upright, jostling Chewie awake. He growled in irritation at being disturbed but settled down once he realized there was no danger.

Ben’s eyes snapped open.

“Is Han—?” She couldn’t even say the word.

“He’s okay,” he said, rubbing sleep from his face with the heel of his hand. “He’s all banged up, looks like he lost a helluva bar fight. But somehow the old bastard didn’t even break a bone. The doctor said he’ll be sore for quite a while—there’s some torn ligaments in his shoulder—but he might be home as early as the end of the week. They only allow one overnight visitor so Mom insisted I come home. He was pretty doped up and sleeping when I left. Said to tell you not to touch his tractor.”

A manic little ripple of laughter escaped from her chest, dissolving almost immediately into tears of relief. But then Ben’s arms were around her, pulling her back into the softness of the couch cushions. He resettled the quilt around her until the worst was over. “Did you eat anything today?” he murmured against her hair. “I haven’t had anything since breakfast and I’m starving.”

And that was how they found themselves sharing leftover meatloaf, a bowl of cherry tomatoes, and authentic Chandrilan refrigerator pickles at two o’clock in the morning. The windows in the kitchen were still open from the midday heat. Ben turned the radio on low and set it to an oldies station Han favored for winter barn work.

As Rey hunted around the freezer for a rumored contain of sherbet, he reminisced, “Some of my happiest memories are of summer nights in this kitchen. Dad would put on the radio and try to get Mom to dance with him. She’d swat at him, tell him he was distracting her from something really important like scraping dinner plates. Eventually she’d give in and he’d spin her around the island as many times as she’d put up with it.”

Her mental image of that young family was so unbearably tender that Rey’s throat tightened. “You’re lucky to have that. I have no memory of my parents.”

“Can I ask you something? What did you mean when you told my mother that you remembered the hospital being cold and dry?”

Having found the sherbet, she scooped a generous helping into a glass dish and grabbed two spoons from the drawer. It seemed somehow appropriate after the trauma they had shared today. “I think I told you my grandmother died a few months before I finished high school. She had a stroke and it took a while before she passed. I spent a few weeks traveling up there every day after school to sit with her. She never woke up but I like to think she knew I was there.” She twirled the spoon through the bright orange confection. “I just remember freezing all the time.”

“Jesus, Rey, I’m sorry. That must have been awful. Did my folks help you at all?”

“That was before I started working here. I didn’t really know them then. I was kind of on my own. The worst of it was when they told me she wasn’t ever going to wake up. I was a minor so they got some sort of court order to turn the machines off. I didn’t fight it or anything. It’s what she would have wanted. She’d have hated dragging on like that. She only wanted to be where green things were growing. I guess that’s where I get it from.”

Ben reached across the island, tracing a finger lightly across the back of her hand. “It’s too late for you to be out driving. Stay here tonight.” She looked up in surprise. The air in the kitchen thickened, somehow. “You can sleep upstairs. I’ll stay down here.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t. Sleeping in your parents’ room would be too strange and no way am I turning you out of your own bed tonight. I can just go. It’s less than twenty minutes from here.”

“And you’ve had a really terrible day. You’re upset and it’s almost three in the morning,” he argued. “Listen, just stay. Please. You can sleep on the couch if that’s what it takes to convince you.”

The truth was, she was too tired to be driving. She might hit a deer or nod off and put the truck in a ditch. At least that’s what she told herself when she agreed to spend the rest of the night. Ben covered her with the quilt—a wedding present made for his great-grandparents, he explained—and settled back down in the wing chair with a book, claiming he was too wired to sleep just yet. The last thing she saw before she drifted off was the glow of the lamplight framing him, as if he were holding the darkness itself at bay.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posts and hides.

The doctors were soon saying that Han would definitely be released by week’s end. He told Leia he didn’t want any visitors, didn’t need anyone else seeing him “laid out like a damned invalid.” This was a thinly-veiled ban aimed squarely at Rey. Ben made a second trip into Coruscant with fresh clothes and homemade food for his parents, but by Thursday he was bored enough that Rey found him by the river, working on the ill-fated fencing project.

“What, you thought one person in the hospital wasn’t quite enough?” she called, jumping down from her truck. “Decided you’d have better luck doing this job alone than your father did?”

“I’m not stupid enough to wear loose clothing next to an auger that’s running,” he retorted. She couldn’t decide if he was intentionally drawing her attention to the form-fitted t-shirt he was wearing, already plastered to his back with sweat in the midday heat. As if she wouldn’t have noticed anyway.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten that you promised to help me carve twenty-five pumpkins by Saturday morning,” she joked.

Ben swept the hair back from his forehead. He wore a wristwatch, just like his father. “I remember you _lying_ to someone that I promised to do that. Not so much with the actual promise.”

“Fair enough,” she conceded. “I was planning to do it alone anyhow. I just thought if you were this desperate for some useful occupation—” she nodded toward the mess of fence posts and half-dug holes, “—you might prefer cooler work in the barn.”

“Actually,” he began, swallowing a little more strongly than normal, “just before you got here I was thinking about going over to the pond to cool off.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “Good idea. Perfect day for it. There won’t be many more like this.”

“You’re welcome to join. If you want,” he added quickly.

She found herself nodding before she was conscious of deciding. “Yeah, that sounds…I haven’t been there in years, actually.”

Quila Pond was in the woods on the very edge of the property, well away from the cultivated fields and fed by the same water table that gave birth to the river. It wasn’t very deep but the water was clear enough that you could see to the bottom on a sunny day. Han kept it stocked with fish and occasionally passed twilight hours in a shabby rowboat he dragged into the trees when it wasn’t in use.

It occurred to Rey, as she watched Ben peel off his damp t-shirt and toss it carelessly on the ground, that this was her employer’s son. She had known him less than a week. He didn’t seem bothered by such details. His work boots were the next to go and she spun around just in time to miss the dusty jeans that followed. Her face felt intensely hot as she listened for the splash that would signal he was in the water and out of sight.

“You coming in?” he called. “I don’t bite.”

“Is this where you make a joke like, unless I ask you nicely?” she shot back, and was immediately mortified. He responded only by laughing.

“I’m turning around,” he announced. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

Before she could lose her nerve, she stripped off her shirt and jeans and dove into the pond. It was still and warm as a bath, sunlight flashing across the surface. A narrow band of leaves, the first to drop this season, rimmed the edge. Ben was standing at the center, the pool’s deepest point, and the water came only halfway up his broad back. She couldn’t stop staring at him.

“It’s smaller than I remember,” he observed, turning at the sound of her approach.

“You were considerably smaller yourself,” she countered, sinking down on the silty bottom so the water rose up past her shoulders. “I’ve seen the photographic evidence.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You know, when Han first said you were coming home, I wracked my brain trying to remember you. I thought we must have crossed paths at least once or twice, at some sports thing or community event. But then at the farmers market, Rose said she didn’t think you’d gone to school here at all.”

Ben mirrored her stance, dropping down into the water until their heads were level. “I went to elementary school here. But by the time I was old enough for middle school, my parents had already decided I was too much of a handful. They thought I needed ‘more structure.’ So they found this ritzy boarding school on the far side of Naboo, Panaka Academy. They shipped me off when I was about ten. I went there ‘til I graduated high school. That’s where I met Poe. He was my suite mate when I was in eighth grade, I think. He’s an alright guy. We were never best friends or anything.” He shrugged dismissively. “I remember my mother coming up for Parents’ Day one year and telling me he was _utterly charming_. I decided I despised him right then and there. Never really got past it, I guess.”

He told the story as if it were amusing but Rey could detect the familiar well of hurt that seemed to bubble up whenever he talked about his relationship with his parents. It was clear he felt alienated from Han and Leia, as if he had never succeeded in meeting their expectations for a son.

“You should give him a second chance. He seemed like he could use a friend. Maybe you could, too,” she suggested.

He floated closer, creating a ripple in the water that lapped lightly at her collarbones. “I don’t get you,” he said. “You have every reason in the world to be bitter and closed off, but you’re not. You’re kind, generous to a fault. You drive around this town in that rusty old truck like some kind of goddamn fairy princess, sprinkling happiness and leaving boxes of rutabagas behind in the bargain. It’s deeply confusing.”

“You know, rutabagas get a bad rap—” she began, but never got to properly lay out her argument because instead, Ben was kissing her.

She’d been kissed before, but not like this. It was…intoxicating. That was the only word that came close. The warmth of the sunlight, the water, his skin slipping against hers. She felt drugged by the intensity of it.

“Should I not have done that?” he whispered, lips lingering on the corner of her mouth.

“No, it was…I mean, yes, you should have. I wanted you to,” she finished with a little pant of pleasure.

“I’d like to do it again, if you have no objections.”

She couldn’t even formulate a witty response before they were tangled together a second time. Something was buzzing in the back of her mind, warnings ricocheting around inside her skull like agitated bees. At the same moment, they both realized the buzzing was coming from the shore.

“Shit,” he whispered, “That’s Dad’s phone. Mom threatened dismemberment if I didn’t keep it on me at all times. Maybe he’s getting discharged early or something.” He nuzzled her temple regretfully before wading toward shore, clinging fabric leaving nothing to her imagination.

Her skin felt prickly, oversensitive. She filled her lungs with air and ducked under the water, sitting on the bottom until her chest burned. When she broke back above the surface, Ben was still watching from the shore. “…but it’s over an hour away. He’s supposed to come home tomorrow. Couldn’t it just wait until then?” He was evidently not pleased by Leia’s response.

“Fine, fine, I’ll come. Tell him he’s a pain. I’ll be there in about an hour. But I gotta get right back.” He smiled at her. “I promised Rey I’d help her carve a bunch of pumpkins for some stupid festival on Saturday.”

He finally ended the call with Leia and sighed, reaching for his jeans. “I’m sorry, my father’s being a jackass. Mom says he’s making a huge fuss and demanding to talk to me in person right away. Come on out and I’ll give you a ride back to your truck.”

She felt more than a little shy about leaving the pond with him watching. But even more than that, she didn’t trust herself not to do something irrevocable once she was near him on dry land. It was all happening fast and she wasn’t as troubled by that as she ought to be.

“You go ahead. I think I’ll stay here for a few more minutes. My truck’s not that far away.”

He looked dubious, half-dressed as he turned his shirt right-side-out.

“Are you sure? You gonna be alright alone?” He regarded her closely. “Promise me that’s all that’s really going on here. Tell me I didn’t just freak you out or ruin things.”

That she could answer truthfully. “I’m not freaked out, I promise. Nothing’s ruined. Now go and hurry back. I’m holding you to that totally made-up promise about the pumpkins.”

~~~~~

He didn’t show up for nearly three hours. Rey was in the barn, a dozen decorations already finished and packed into boxes for transport to the gazebo.

“Hey,” he said quietly, perching on the edge of a wooden feeding trough. He felt different somehow, subdued. The Ben who kissed her in the sunlight, eyes dark and intense, was not the same man keeping careful distance between them now.

“Is everything alright?” she wondered. “Why was Han being so weird? What did he want?” When he didn’t answer, she wondered if today’s intimacy had lulled her into crossing boundaries he wasn’t quite ready for. She wasn’t his girlfriend or anything, for goodness’ sake. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me, obviously.”

Ben picked absently at the trough’s end, long slivers of wood coming loose under his attack. “I need to ask you something. Please tell me the truth, okay. I won’t be mad, I promise. I just need to know that you’re being honest with me.”

She was wrist deep in pumpkin innards, the slimy fibers snaking around her fingers. It wasn’t the most dignified position to be in for what was sounding like a very serious conversation. “Of course I’ll tell you the truth, if I know it. What’s this all about?”

He seemed to be having trouble meeting her eye, whether because he was too upset or because he was afraid of what he might see, she didn’t know. He cleared his throat. “Were you aware that my father plans to disinherit me and leave Kessel Run to you when he dies?”

It was too shocking to process. She felt as if ice had been dumped down her back. Wiping hard at the slippery coating on her lower arms, she struggled clumsily to her feet. “No, there must be some kind of mistake. That can’t be right. Han would never do that. Leia would never do that. And they shouldn’t. It would be wrong.”

He looked up then, shoulders lifting minutely, as if some hidden weight had been removed.

“Ben, I have no idea what happened at the hospital. But I swear to you that Han has never said any such thing to me. And if he ever had, I would have sorted him out straight away. There’s no way in hell I would ever agree to that, even before I met you. This is your home. It would be absolutely wrong for me to…what in the world did he say to you?”

He folded his arms tightly across his chest. “He said he wants someone who loves this place as much as he does to have it when he’s gone. It’s nothing personal. That’s actually what he said, as he was telling me his plan to give the house I grew up in to you.”

“God, Ben, he’s just confused. They must have him on too much pain medication or something. Wait until he gets home and we’ll clear everything up. The farm is yours, it’s not up for debate.”

“It’s not up for debate in his mind, either. The way he sees it, you’ve been here for seven years, working your ass off to make this place go. You’ve earned it. And the thing is, Rey, he’s right. You do belong here. Whatever success the farm has today, it’s all to your credit. And I want to be very clear that I’m not angry at you. Sincerely. But I’m furious at him. If I hadn’t promised my mother I’d see her through this, I might’ve bailed tonight.”

Of all the things he’d said so far, that cut the most deeply. She had no illusions about her hold over him, as memorable as the kiss in the pond might have been. He had a life outside this valley she knew nothing about. Where did he live? What did he do for work now that he wasn’t in the military anymore? Was he already with someone else, a partner, a lover? She somehow hadn’t found the time to ask any of those crucial questions over glazed donuts or shared dishes of sherbet. But hearing that everything that had passed between them this week meant so little to him that he could just walk away…that hurt.

The direction of her thoughts must have been plain. Ben shifted uncomfortably. “Rey, you knew from the beginning that I have a difficult relationship with my parents. Mostly with my father but my mother isn’t always a picnic, either. I told you I left here because I didn’t want to spend my life in Chandrila being a farmer. You knew that. I was always honest with you.”

She nodded mutely. What could she say?

“I’m telling you the truth now. I don’t care about the farm. You’d be fantastic running it, do a better job than Han ever has. I don’t have a single doubt about that. What kills me is that, once again, rather than making even a little effort, he’s just cutting his losses with me and moving on. He’s found another kid he likes better so we’re just _done_. Nothing personal. That’s what I take objection to. Because it feels pretty fucking personal from where I’m standing.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know anything about this until just now but somehow, I feel responsible. Like I’ve wronged you without meaning to. It was never my intention to take your place here, in any way. Please believe that. Let me talk to Han and make him understand how absurd this entire thing is—”

He shook his head hard. “There’s no need for that. You haven’t done anything wrong and you have no obligation to try and fix any of this. Honestly, the fact that you’re more concerned about my feelings than he is speaks volumes about both of you. I’m sorry I ever came back and dragged you into the middle of this mess.”

It was only then that he seemed to take in the scene around her, the pumpkins and flowers and boxes laid out in a neat assembly line. “Shit, I forgot…let me help—”

“No, no.” She held up a hand to stop him coming any closer. “That’s not…no. I can handle this. You had a long drive and your mind isn’t in a good place right now. I was just about to call it a night anyway. I can finish the rest tomorrow. Don’t worry about it.”

“Rey—” he began but she backed farther away. The space between them felt unbridgeable. This afternoon might have been a lifetime ago.

She rubbed absently at the bits of plant fiber now dried to her palms. “Let me just say one more thing. I know you’re very angry right now. You have a right to be. And I might not put this very well, but here’s the gist of it: I would give _anything_ for the chance to be having an argument with my father right now. Anything. So, if you truly don’t care about the farm, maybe just consider trying to salvage what you can of your relationship with Han. He won’t always be here, Ben. That’s all I want to say.”

He didn’t respond right away and she wondered if she had offended him. But then he sucked in a slow breath and said, “And I may not put this very well, but there’s something I want you to know, too. It might be selfish of me but I’m glad I kissed you before this happened, so you never doubted that it was really you I wanted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite parts of writing this story has been sprinkling in tiny little SW references, like nuts on a sundae. 
> 
> My favorite one in this chapter is Quila Pond. <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: this chapter fails the Bechdel test hard.

“The five greatest smells in the world are newborn babies, laundry from the line, the first roses of summer, fresh-brewed coffee, and festival kettle corn,” Rose enumerated.

“Sounds as if you’ve given it a lot of thought,” Rey chuckled, placing the last of the centerpieces on the railing of the gazebo. A musician hired to provide the day’s entertainment was already seated at its center, setting an ornate wooden dulcimer across his lap.

“You’ve outdone yourself again, Rey. It looks simply splendid,” called a white-haired woman from across the way.

“Thanks, Jocasta! Hopefully you’ll sell loads of tickets,” the younger woman yelled back. Jocasta Nu ran the Chandrila Public Library and was staffing the Friends of the Library table managing the pumpkin raffle. People were already milling around on the square, even though the event would not officially start for another quarter-hour.

Just beyond the Friends table, Jannah and Finn were working the giant kettle of corn that inspired Rose’s rapturous list. They volunteered every year as a fundraiser for the Band Boosters. It was good for members of the community to see their school principal so actively supporting the district. Finn stirred rapidly with a large wooden paddle. He then tipped the hinged pot so that the fresh-popped kernels spilled onto a cooling tray. Meanwhile, Jannah scooped the cooked corn into long plastic sleeves, which she hung around the stall like salty, marvelous bait. A couple of kids were sitting cross-legged on the grass nearby, just watching the show.

“Here comes Paige,” Rose observed. Her older sister rushed toward them with an overstuffed basket in her arms. It was loaded with bottles of honey, packages of tea, and a few artfully tied bunches of dried flowers.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late. I locked my keys in the car and then spent like ten minutes trying to find the spare set in the junk drawer. We should add that to the winter project list, Rosie. Be right back,” she promised over her shoulder, dashing off to deposit the basket on the library’s raffle item display table.

“How come you came in separate cars?” Rey asked, straightening the oak leaves in one of her creations. “Oh, you weren’t home this morning, were you, naughty girl?”

Rose blushed. “Shut up. You’re one to talk. What’s going on with you and Mr. Mysterious Stranger? Word around town is that you’ve been up at Kessel Run every day, even though Han and Leia were at the hospital all week.”

Rey scoffed. “Well I’d have to be, wouldn’t I, with Han not around to manage things? People just love to gossip,” she finished defensively.

“Armie had to drive over to Jedha for work on Thursday. He thought he saw some folks swimming in Quila Pond. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, naughty girl?”

Rey frowned. “Where is the illusive Armie, anyway? Why isn’t he here?”

“Saturday mornings he goes hunting and trapping with his dad. He’ll be by later to pick me up. And don’t try to change the subject.”

“What’s the subject?” Paige asked, rejoining them. She was nibbling on a huge cranberry muffin, a Styrofoam cup of coffee steaming in her other hand.

“The subject,” Rose replied smoothly, “is what exactly is going on between Rey and the very attractive man she picked up here at the farmers market last weekend.”

“Picked up?” Rey repeated, exasperated but also amused. “You make it sound so tawdry. I drove him to his parents’ house, for God’s sake.”

Paige offered the last of the muffin to Rose, who took it without comment and continued, “What was it Bà used to say? _You can’t catch a tiger without going into its cave._ ”

All three women exploded in laughter.

“You’re daft,” Rey finally sputtered. “No one is catching any tigers. Not unless Armie has a lucky day.”

“You’re not into him?” Paige asked, sipping tentatively at her still-scalding drink. “Rosie said he was beautiful. Is he one of those guys that knows it?”

“Whether I’m into him or not isn’t really relevant. He’s only home for a visit because Leia asked him to come. Han’s accident complicated things a little but as soon as he’s recovered, Ben’s leaving. He’s made it quite clear he has no interest in being in Chandrila a minute longer than he has to be.”

Paige looked disappointed. She tilted her cup as if in toast. “Maybe the love of a good woman…?”

“Life isn’t a country-western song. Mercifully.”

“Hey, Rey!” someone called from behind them. Poe was crossing the cornhole tournament field. It had completely slipped her mind that she and Ben had promised to meet him.

“Poe, you made it. Uh, these are my friends, Rose and Paige Tico. This is Poe Dameron, a friend of Ben’s. We met at the Pick-A-Pumpkin this past weekend and I told him he should come to the festival.”

“Tico?” Poe asked, extended a hand to each woman in turn. “As in, the little shop with all the crazy flower pots on South Main?”

“That’s us,” Paige said brightly. “Tea, baked goods, and honey we cultivate ourselves. You should come by some time. Assuming you like tea?”

“I love tea,” Poe said happily. “Tea is the absolute best.”

Behind his back, Rey and Rose exchanged looks.

“Ben not here yet?” he asked absently. He was still smiling at Paige.

A little of Rey’s good mood deflated. “I’m so sorry, I don’t think he’s gonna be able to make it. His father had a fairly serious accident on the farm earlier in the week. He’s on the mend but they just brought him home from the hospital late yesterday.”  
  


“Oh shit, that’s terrible news. I’m so sorry. And sorry to miss him, obviously. Is he leaving soon?”

“I’m not sure he knows yet. He seems to be taking things day by day. I know he wants to help his mother through the recovery process. Beyond that, who can say?”

The noise and energy level of the festival was rising. The dulcimer player began warming up as an elderly couple opened soccer chairs so they could stay and listen. “Man, that kettle corn smells good,” Poe observed.

“I was just saying that,” Paige lied. Her sister discreetly rolled her eyes. “We should go get some before the line gets too long.”

“Lead the way,” he directed eagerly. Without a backward glance, the two strolled off to the other side of the square.

“I don’t know about you, but I feel well and truly ditched,” Rose cracked.

Rey shook her head slowly. “That was amazing. Like a story they’ll tell their grandchildren or something. _We saw each other over the kettle corn tub and the whole world just faded away._ ”

“Do you know anything about this guy?”

“Shoe’s on the other foot now isn’t it, protective sister? I don’t know much. He and Ben went to school together in Naboo. Ben says he’s a good guy. Of course, they haven’t seen each other in like a decade. Oh, and he’s divorced with a young son.”

“That’s not necessarily a deal breaker,” Rose conceded.

“I’m sure she’ll welcome your opinions on the subject. You can talk when they get back from their honeymoon,” Rey quipped. Paige and Poe were animatedly discussing flavor options while beaming at each other.

The clock on the town hall chimed the hour. Rose jammed the last hunk of muffin into her mouth. “I gotta go. I’m helping with the kiddie activities in front of the church ‘til one o’clock. We’re decorating mini hay bales. They’re gonna be so darling. Catch you later.”

With no other commitments beyond delivering the pumpkins, Rey crossed to a nearby bench and sat. She much preferred being busy to simply attending these kinds of events. Watching families walk through the park, parents pushing strollers, couples holding hands, it made her chest ache. No doubt some therapist could have a field day dissecting her desire to be part of something that gave her so much pain. _You aren’t happy so you try to fill that hole by creating happiness for others_ , or some equally depressing analysis.

There was a light touch on her shoulder.

“There you are.” It was Ben. He came around to the front of the bench and dropped down next to her. “Is Poe a no-show? Did I luck out?”

“Sorry to disappoint. He’s over there buying kettle corn. I’m surprised you remembered.” No need to mention that she hadn’t.

He bowed his head, gave a small smile. “I’m not a total asshole, Rey. You told him to meet us here at eleven. I’m here.”

“Well, he seems to have hit it off pretty strongly with Rose’s sister, Paige. You might not have to spend too much time with him after all.”

A string of kids ran past, shouting and trailing streamers they had clearly stolen from the craft table.

“How come you didn’t come over last night?” he asked softly. “Han was asking for you.”

She shifted uneasily on the bench. “It didn’t seem appropriate. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d want me there—and that’s fine, Ben. Really, I get it.”

“Why wouldn’t I want you there? I told you, I’m not mad at you. But maybe you’re mad at me.”

“What possible reason could I have to be mad at you?”

“Because I kissed you. And as much as I wanted to do that—as much as I _still_ want to do that—maybe I shouldn’t have given…everything else.” He slid a hand along the slats, until their fingers were just barely touching. Rey resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone was watching.

“I’m not angry,” she said quietly. “I wanted to kiss you, too. That doesn’t mean I expect anything from you. You don’t have to ask me to prom, Ben.”

He snickered. “I don’t know about prom but Mom was adamant that I should persuade you to come to dinner tonight. If you want.”

She couldn’t imagine a more awkward scenario. “I don’t know. Everything feels so uncomfortable now. Unless you came here to tell me the three of you worked everything out?”

“You mean about the farm?" He shook his head. "He and I haven’t discussed it since his big announcement in the hospital. I don’t even think Mom knows.”

“What?” She was horrified. “How can that possibly be? How can he make such a massive decision and not consult his wife of thirty-five years?”

“The farm belongs to him, Rey. He bought it back in the late ‘70s when real estate around here was dirt cheap. My mother has family money but he’s never touched that. It’s a point of pride with him. Kessel Run is his, free and clear, to do with as he likes.” He leaned back on the bench, staring up through the trees. “In a way, I think he feels like it’s okay for him to give you the farm precisely because he knows I’ll still have an inheritance from Mom. Like he’s not screwing me over _so_ badly.”

She had agonized over their conversation since that night, trying to find a way clear of the thorn patch they somehow stumbled into. What was there to lose by trying? “Can I ask you a question? Please don’t take it the wrong way.”

He waited patiently. “I’ve been trying to think of some kind of solution that solves all these problems. You say you don’t want the farm, but you’re angry at Han for wanting me to have it. You think I’d do a good job of running it. I may love the place, but I would never, ever feel right about taking it from you. And Han…he just wants the farm to survive, Ben. I genuinely don’t think he’s trying to hurt you. If I had to guess, I’d say the accident frightened him, reminded him of his own mortality. He talks a lot about how many family farms are being lost these days, how much more money there is to be had from an ugly subdivision than a corn field. I think he’s terrified that you’ll sell the land after he’s gone. And rather than trying to talk to you about it—rather than admitting how much it hurts him that you don’t value the same things he does—he’s doing the only thing he can think of to protect it.”

“Was there a question in there?” he asked, not unkindly.

“I’m getting to that. What if you and I spoke to him together? We could make a counter-proposal. You inherit the farm, as you should. Then you and I work out some kind of business arrangement. I could run the farm for you, as an investment property. You could go back to your life, reasonably confident that things here were under control. Maybe I could even live in the house in lieu of salary or something. That way the farm is protected, it still belongs to your family, and Han doesn’t have to worry that everything will be lost when he’s gone.”

The dulcimer player finished his first performance to a smattering of applause. Further away, someone was calling out contestants for a qualifying round of cornhole over a staticky microphone. Ben didn’t respond.

“Of course,” Rey pressed on, stomach fluttering with nerves, “all of that supposes that you don’t actually intend to sell it off. If you do…I guess none of this matters. Then again, if you were willing to work with me, give me a bit of time, I maybe couldn’t swing market rates but with a payment plan of some kind, I might be able to protect at least part of it—”

“Rey,” he interrupted. “Hold up, okay. I appreciate how hard you’re trying, I really do. But I think you’re getting a little ahead of the game. I’ve never seriously thought about what would happen after Dad died. I guess I figured he’d go first but then Mom would live in the house until she was gone. That’s as far as I’ve gotten. I certainly don’t have any evil land developers on retainer. One thing I can tell you: I would never agree to any plan that’s essentially indentured servitude for you.”

He reached again for her hand. “Listen, Dad’s got a couple of months of physical therapy ahead of him. I’m between jobs right now so I have nothing to rush back for. I promised Mom I’d stay through the holidays. Can we just agree to table this conversation for a little while? I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, about trying to salvage some kind of relationship with him. Maybe it won’t work any better this time than it has the rest of my life. But I’m willing to try.”

“That’s…I’m so glad to hear you say that.”

He took off his sunglasses, leaned in closer. His eyes were as intense as the day in the pond. “I don’t know what any of this means for…us. I don’t know how you’re feeling about things. Maybe you prefer that I keep my distance. I will, if that’s what you want.”

Rey twisted her hand under his, threading their fingers together. “What do you want, Ben?”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “I’d like you to come to dinner tonight. Why don’t we start there and see where it goes? Prom season’s a long time away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're having a four-day weekend from online school, so I won't be posting again until at least Tuesday. Have no fear, I'm working on chapter nine right now so there will be more next week!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turned out to be a super boring long weekend. In case you are also bored, dear reader...here's a tiny little something from me to you.

“So, we’re _not_ burning the burn pile?” Ben clarified as they crossed the yard to get to Rey’s truck.

“Nope.” She was winding a buttery yellow scarf around her neck, last year’s Christmas present from Rose. The temperature had finally begun to drop now that October had arrived.

“The reason I ask is because I’m like ninety-seven percent sure as we left the house, you told Han we were heading out to ‘take care of the burn pile.’”

“Yeah but I didn’t specify how.”

“Look at you, all shifty and underhanded.”

“I’ve been trying to get him to stop burning for years now. It’s terrible for the environment. And as hot and dry as it was this summer, it’s risky under the best of conditions.”

“What do you propose instead?”

“I was thinking we could drive over to Hondo’s in Batuu, load up the truck with cinder blocks, and surprise Han with a beautiful row of open-ended compost bins.”

“Because we all know how much he loves surprises.”

“I can certainly go alone, take the blame myself,” she offered. “But you will miss out on the pleasure of my company. It’s at least forty minutes round-trip. And there’s a little bakery not far from the hardware store that makes the best hot apple pie á la mode you’ve ever tasted in your life. Brown sugar-bourbon ice cream, no less.” She lifted her eyebrows suggestively.

“Diabolical,” he chuckled, reaching for the door handle.

It was a flawless fall day on the bypass road to Batuu, all sharp blue sky and crimson leaves. Han had been home from the hospital nearly two weeks, fighting physical therapy every step of the way. He was also uneasy about Ben’s increased role around the farm. Every time the younger man casually announced his intention to tackle a job, Han looked torn between surprise and suspicion. The latter usually won.

“Just ‘cause you used to ride the tractor with me when you were five doesn’t mean you know how to handle it now, especially on that east hill. It's steeper than it looks and if you aren’t careful, you’ll roll it. And remember to steer clear of the culvert at the bottom. Drive over that and it’ll crush for sure…” Ben mostly endured these lectures stony-faced and silent, still resolved to try with his father. So far as Rey knew, nothing else had been said between them about the future of Kessel Run.

“Whatever else may need fixing in this thing, at least we know the heater works,” Ben complained.

“Yeah, it’s pretty much got two settings.”

“Is one of them _blast furnace_?”

“Not all of us run as hot as you do,” Rey shot back, registering the words even as he gave her a wickedly self-satisfied grin. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, I do,” he rumbled. She couldn’t help laughing. Things were good between them, easy and affectionate. His hand had found hers in the middle of the bench seat before the truck even reached the highway.

“I have something to ask you,” she began. “Don’t be weird about it, okay? Did you meet Jannah and Finn at the festival? They were selling kettle corn for the band kids? Jannah’s the principal of the school?” Ben continued to look blank. “Anyhow, they have a horse farm with an enormous century barn and every fall they throw a party there. An open house, really. Everyone’s invited. I go every year and I just wondered…if you wanted to…”

“If I wanted to…?” he asked with feigned innocence.

“You ass. If you intend to go to the party and you need a ride, I would be happy to drive you. But only to spare you from the dangers of hitchhiking.”

“Oh, I see. You’re offering me a ride. It’s good that we cleared that up because for a second, I was confused. I thought maybe you were asking me on a date or something.”

She reached for the small silver hand crank that would lower the window. It _was_ warm in the cab. “And if I were?”

“If you were, then I’d say I’d love to go with you. Unless it’s a costume party. I don’t do costumes.”

“Are you sure? You could just carry a cell phone and go as an inhabitant of the twenty-first century.”

He grimaced. “It is a costume party, isn’t it?”

“It’s costumes optional. Nobody ever wears anything elaborate. A funny wig or a bow tie or something like that. Lots of people don’t dress up at all.”

“Were you planning on wearing a costume?”

“Last year I wore a necklace with little candy corn lights that twinkled. It was a massive hit.”

“I can imagine.”

“Honestly, you’d feel perfectly comfortable wearing what you’ve got on now,” she promised, nodding toward his cargo pants and sweater. “Though the work boots might be a bit uncomfortable if you wanted to dance.”

“So were you?” he asked.

“Was I what?”

“Asking me to go with you to a Halloween costume party hosted by people I don’t know, attended by a bunch of people I probably don’t want to see?”

“I suppose I was.”

“Good,” he answered decisively. “Then it’s a date.”  
  


~~~~~

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding. I’m not even an ice cream fan but this is phenomenal.” He had to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the sound of a model train, forever circling the bakery on a track suspended over their heads.

“Right?” Rey managed, her own mouth overfull of hot apple pie. “Wait, what do you mean, not an ice cream fan?”

“I just don’t like it very much. I’m not a huge dessert person in general.”

She laid her fork down carefully on the bright pink table. “I’m sorry to say this, Ben, but that is a game changer. How can I respect the judgement of someone who is anti-dessert?”

He laughed. “There are so many things about me that are so much more objectionable that that. If ice cream is your line in the sand, kid, we were doomed from the start.”

He didn’t seem to realize what he’d said until her expression dimmed, just a little.

“Were we?” she asked softly, still smiling.

His face fell. “I didn’t—”

“No, you’re right. We don’t know very much about each other. Not really. You’ve been here for like three weeks and I don’t even know where you mean when you talk about _going back_.”

He wiped his mouth carefully on a paper napkin, then folded his arms on the table. “I traveled all over the world in the military. I was in for almost seven years. When I got out, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. I rented an apartment in Lothal, month-to-month while I was job hunting. Then Mom asked me to come for a visit and here I am. What else do you want to know?”

“You’re still renting that apartment?”

“I am, which is pretty stupid since it has almost nothing in it.”

“Do you like Lothal? Is that where you want to stay permanently?”

“It’s fine. I like it well enough. I mostly picked it because it was centrally located to a lot of other places.”

“What sort of work are you looking for?”

“Not sure. I was casting a pretty wide net.”

“Something that uses your skills from the service?”

His face darkened a shade. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll go in a completely different direction. Which reminds me, I have something for you.”

He pulled a folded piece of paper from one of the pockets in his pants, then slid it across the table, almost shyly.

“What’s this?”

“You can say you hate it. I won’t get offended, I promise. If you don’t hate it, it’s yours to do with what you want.”

She unfolded the sheet. On it, Ben had drawn her a logo for Kessel Run. It was a clean and simple sketch, just the farm’s name and the year it was established. He had incorporated a tiny tractor at the top, being driven by the unmistakable silhouette of his father. Rey’s vision blurred looking at it.

“I didn’t see you wanting something fussy,” he explained. “Strawberry vines or curlicue fonts. But if I was wrong about that—”

“It’s perfect,” she reassured him. “Just what I wanted. Han will love it.”

He looked away in embarrassment, then reached again for the ice cream spoon and began to twirl it along the length of his fingers. Whenever he was agitated, he tried to find something to do with his hands. She had a few ideas she was feeling increasingly ready to share.

“Can I ask one more question?” When he looked up, she rushed on, afraid to chicken out. “At that apartment, in Lothal…is someone waiting for you to come back?” She wanted to sound self-assured and confident, not like her future happiness might depend on his answer.

He looked at her steadily. “There’s no one else, Rey. I’m exactly where I want to be.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing the pics of everyone playing Sims Batuu has been one of the rare joys of social media these last few weeks. :-)

It wasn’t until they were parked in the improvised grass lot near the barn that she decided it was safe to ask. “Will you do something for me?”

He grimaced. “It’s a costume thing, isn’t it?”

“If you really don’t want to, you don’t have to. But I’m going to do it and it will be so much cooler if we match.” She wrinkled her nose in pleading.

He sighed melodramatically. “What is it?”

Rey clapped her hands in delight that he was even considering the request. From her bag, she pulled identical thin headbands. Each one had a bright green cardboard diamond affixed to it by a clear straw, so the shape appeared to float just over the wearer’s head.

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s called a plumbob. Or a green diamond. Doesn’t matter.”

“None of that tells me what it is.”

“It’s from a video game that’s very popular nowadays. Nothing objectionable, I promise. My friend Rose and her sister are addicted to it. Trust me, if we walk into the party wearing these, you will have people telling you how clever you are all night.”

“You say that as though I care what other people think of me,” he deadpanned.

Rey stuck out her bottom lip.

“Give me the damn—” He grabbed the headband from her but couldn’t put it on until he was outside. His head nearly scraped the ceiling of the cab as it was. Before he could jump out, she clutched the collar of his shirt and hauled him back for a lingering kiss. He tasted like the hot cider they had shared with his parents on the porch after dinner.

“Keep that up and we won’t make it to this hoedown,” he murmured.

She tweaked his nose. “Don’t be rude. You’re a townie, too, remember.”

“Don’t remind me.”

A wall of sound greeted them outside the truck. Music was blaring from the barn, a local band called Echo Squadron that Jannah hired every year because they all graduated from the district during her tenure. They weren’t terrible.

“Do you like to dance?” Rey asked, adjusting her headband in the side mirror.

He waited for her to join him, taking her hand with a casual familiarity that secretly delighted her. He was already wearing the diamond and the sight of him doing such a silly thing at her request left her elated.

“I’d have to be a whole lot drunker than I currently am to even consider it.”

As they got closer to the barn, she wondered if she ought to pull away. They hadn’t discussed how open to be about their relationship in public. But Ben showed no signs of hesitation so ultimately, she decided to follow his lead.

The barn was raucous. Red paper lanterns and strings of lights hung from the rafters. Guests sat cross-legged on hay bales, balancing plates filled with food and trying to talk over the din of the band. Dozens of people in various states of costuming were in the center of the room, dancing and laughing.

Somehow, they ran into Poe first.

“Fantastic costume idea!” he exclaimed. Rey glanced at Ben smugly. “Paige and Rose are gonna freak.”

“What are you, middle-aged Harry Potter?” Ben asked. Rey poked him but Poe took the ribbing good naturedly.

“If you had told me a month ago I’d be going on an actual date anytime this century, I’d have said you were nuts. And a costume party? Come on. Graduation gown was the only thing I could come up with on short notice.”

He led them to the corner farthest from the speaker system. As predicted, Paige and Rose shrieked when they saw the diamond headbands. They were both already a little tipsy. Rose’s witch hat was adorably askew.

“What is that you’re drinking?” Rey asked.

Paige held up a dark violet concoction in a snifter that was somehow smoking. “Finn says it’s called a Purple People Eater. It’s freaking delicious. Rosie’s just got a boring old margarita.”

“I’ve never seen a black margarita before,” Ben observed drily.

“There’s regular beers over there, man,” Poe pointed out, wrapping an arm around Paige’s waist. She lifted one end of her feather boa and tickled his ear. “If you want to be old school about it. Speaking of which, did you guys know Solo doesn’t own a phone?”

Before anyone could properly mock Ben for his technophobia, a tall, red-headed man walked up to Rose with a plate of what looked like human fingers. He was wearing a t-shirt on which he had clearly handwritten in marker, “Error 404: Costume Not Found.”

“Here you go, Rosie,” he said quietly, not making eye contact or interacting with anyone else in the group.

“What are those?” Ben demanded in disgust.

The ginger looked surprised that anyone was even addressing him. “The card said ‘Witches Fingers.’”

“But what _are_ they?” Ben repeated.

“Mozzarella sticks. The bit that looks like a manky fingernail is an almond, I think.”

The two men were scowling so intently at one another that Rey fought the urge to giggle. “Hi Armie,” she said.

“Hi Rey,” he answered. His tone was a touch softer but he didn’t smile. Armie rarely smiled at anyone except Rose; Rey had stopped taking it personally long ago.

“I really like your shirt.”

He looked down, as though it were news to him that he was even wearing a shirt. “Rosie thought it was funny,” he said simply.

“I do, too,” Rey agreed. “I’m glad you’re here tonight. We hardly ever get the chance to hang out.”

Rose was watching her, misty-eyed with gratitude. She downed the last swallow of her black margarita, grabbed a handful of the mozzarella sticks and yelled, “Let’s dance, you guys!” before yanking Armie toward the center of the barn.

Paige grabbed for her sister’s hips as she passed, trying to form a conga line. She had already shoved her own smoking goblet into a very amused Poe’s hand. “I am having the best time!” she yelled, chasing after Rose.

Rey was certain she heard Ben mutter under his breath, “Christ, it’s gonna be a long night.”  
  


~~~~~

  
“Are your ears still ringing? Because mine are.”

“Oh my god, are you ninety?” Rey asked.

She had taken pity on him after little more than an hour and said their goodbyes to Jannah and Finn. It was a gorgeous night, clear and cold, far too early to go home. Instead, they drove east of town to the Chandrila Reservoir.

“This is such a cliché,” she wailed, burrowing deeper into the crook of his arm. “Never in my life have I ever found myself with a man in the bed of a truck.”

“I find that hard to believe, given the blankets you just happened to have squirreled away in there.”

“They’re for winter emergencies!” she insisted indignantly, smacking his shoulder. His chest rumbled pleasantly beneath her.

“I think the last time I was here was in eleventh grade. We had to come out for science class, observing a comet or something. Ms. Syndulla was such a good teacher. I don’t know how she always managed to keep her temper. I remember there was only the one telescope that night so we all spent most of the time just jumping around trying to stay warm.”

Ben bundled the blankets closer around her neck. “You know what’d be good right now? My mother’s tomato soup. When I was a kid she used to carry thermoses of it out to the barn, to keep us warm while we were working on Dad’s winter projects.”

“You do have some good memories, then?”

“Sure,” he admitted. ”It wasn’t all terrible. Dad used to take me for rides on the tractor. We went sledding on the east hill, skating on the pond. Mom would do art projects with me when she wasn’t traveling. I even have a few memories of my Grandma Ami. She died when I was pretty young but I can still remember her setting up this old projector and showing me home movies from when my mom and uncle were small.” He brushed the hair back from her forehead. “Am I being tactless? Should I shut up?”

“No, of course not. I love your stories. I feel like I’m living vicariously through you. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my grandmother and she took the best care of me that she could. But we never had much money so she was always working at this bar over in Takodana. I was on my own most of the time. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” she added guiltily.

“You’re not. Ungrateful is thinking every day for seven years that you might die when all you want to do is go home. And then miraculously you survive, you make it home, but you’re not sure how to be there anymore. So you throw it all away and leave again.”

Rey shifted, propped herself up on an elbow. “You don’t talk much about your time in the service.”

He shook his head tightly. “It’s not something I wanna think too much about. At least, not now. Maybe when I have some distance from it.”

She had learned over years of dealing with Han that sometimes, if she just resisted the urge to respond quickly, he would say more. Ben took after his father in many ways.

“My grandfather died before I was born. That picture of him has been on the mantel my whole life. My grandmother was a brilliant woman. But when it came to him, turns out she couldn’t see him all that clearly. I remember her telling me about him, how brave he was. How hard he fought to protect the things he believed in, important things like democracy and freedom. At the time, I ate it up. I wanted to be just like him, make a difference in the world. Chandrila felt so small. I couldn’t wait to escape.”

“What happened?” she encouraged gently.

“Turns out my grandfather wasn’t such a big hero, after all. And he didn’t really care about democracy all that much, or freedom. He was more about order and control. I didn’t learn any of that until I was an adult and able to do some research into his career. By then it was too late.”

“What do you mean, too late?”

“I’d already signed myself away. I had a vicious C.O. who didn’t give a damn about human life. But I’d left here on bad terms, felt like I had no other options. So I stayed until I couldn’t take it anymore.”

His face was hidden in shadows but the pain in his voice was palpable. “I’m not a good man, Rey. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. It was surreal to come back and see people just living normal lives. I’m not sure how to do that, if I even can. I’m not sure I have a right to be here anymore.” He exhaled slowly in the darkness. “If I ever did.”

She fumbled under the blankets for his hand, brought the warm skin to her cold lips. “You belong where ever you want to belong, Ben. And if you ever decided that what you wanted was to try and build a life here, I’d help you. In any way I could.”

He traced a fingertip along the edge of her jaw. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. To find out what the catch is with you.”

“The catch?”

“Something, anything that would…” He didn’t finish but they both knew what he meant.

“Sorry, Solo. I’m not going out of my way to make it easier for you to leave,” she whispered, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to his throat. “In fact, I think it’s in my best interests to make it extremely difficult for you.”

~~~~~

The house was dark by the time they pulled into the driveway. The moon was high but soon to disappear behind a front of clouds rolling in from the west. The forecast warned of storms ahead.

Ben got out of the truck and was halfway across the yard when Rey rolled down her window and called softly after him. “Hang on,” she instructed, fishing around in the cab and getting out to follow. She held out a diamond headband.

He took it with a huff of amusement. “I still have no clue what this thing is.”

“It’s a remembrance. Every time you look at it, you’ll think of me. See how cunning I am?”

“Evil genius,” he agreed.

“Thank you for doing that for me. It made me stupidly happy.”

“Doesn’t take much, does it?”

“I disagree,” she answered, pulling him down for a second goodnight kiss.

The scrape of metal against metal let them know that someone was sitting on the swing. Their unseen observer left the obscurity of the porch and stepped into the moonlight flooding the top step.

Han looked livid.

“It’s late,” he said shortly. “You should get home, Rey.”

She was too startled to even respond.

Ben sounded as heated as his father looked. “Do you mind? We’re not thirteen.”

“Then maybe you should stop acting like a spoiled brat,” Han spit. “Rey, go home. I need to talk to Ben.”

“Why, so you can punish me for breaking curfew?” His tone was contemptuous. “What is your problem?”

“My problem? What is my problem?” Han stomped down the steps, a touch unsteadily. His injured arm was still restrained in a cloth sling and it threw off his balance.

“Han, please,” Rey implored, moving to put herself between the two men. “I don’t know why you’re so upset—”

“Go home, Rey,” the older man repeated. “There are things going on here that you don’t know—”

Ben exploded in fury. “Are you kidding me? Is that what this is about? Do you actually think I didn’t tell her? What did I ever do to make you think so fucking little of me?”

That clearly caught Han off guard. “You told her?”

“About your plans for the farm?” Rey demanded. “Of course, he did. He told me that night. What did you think?”

“I’ll tell you what he thought,” Ben supplied. “He saw us together and automatically assumed I was so desperate to get my hands on Sunnybrook Farm here that I would seduce you to do it.”

Lights were coming on inside the house. Leia was obviously awake and making her way downstairs to find out what was happening.

“You had no business telling her,” Han snapped, but some of the righteous indignation had left him.

Rey felt her own ire rising. Han was like a father to her but he was out of line. “Were _you_ ever planning to tell me? Or were you just going to wait and let me find out at your funeral that you put me in this hideously awkward position with your family?”

Han couldn’t seem to meet her eye. “Of course, I was gonna tell you, kid. I was just waiting for the right moment.”

The porch light came on and Leia stepped outside, tying an old flannel robe closed. “What in the world is going on out here? It’s nearly one in the morning!”

“Nothing,” Han said with a warning look at his son. “Rey was just leaving.”

“Coward,” Ben snarled. “You come after me for being honest with Rey? Tell you wife what you’re planning to do.”

“Han?” Leia prompted. She sounded alarmed. “What’s he talking about?”

For one wild moment, Rey was sure that Han was going to take a swing at Ben. Had his stronger arm been free, he might have. Instead, he turned on his heel and marched back up the stairs, straight past Leia.

“Where are you going?” the older woman demanded, bewildered by the whole exchange.

“Bed,” he barked, and slammed the door shut behind him.

“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Leia shouted.

Ben turned to Rey. “I’m sorry. You should probably go. This is only gonna get worse.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Clearly he cares more about your opinion of him than anyone else’s. He’s even more defensive than usual having this conversation in front of you. When Mom finds out—” he lowered his voice, since Leia was still standing by the front door, watching them closely, “—all hell is gonna break loose. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He kissed her forehead, then looked at his mother with an expression of defiance. She said nothing but Rey thought she caught a hint of something in her face. Was it satisfaction?

As he headed toward the house, the first raindrops began to fall. She grabbed for his wrist. “Remember what we talked about. Nothing’s more important than people.”

He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Drive safe,” was all he said.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm historically terrible at these types of scenes, but I did my best. :-/

By the time Rey reached home, cold sheets of rain were slicing down. She got soaked running from the truck to her back door. Maz’s old bungalow wasn’t large or fancy, but it was enough to meet her needs.

She was too agitated to fall asleep. After changing into pajamas and a lumpy sweater, and pulling her hair into a messy bun, she settled down with a book on mushroom cultivation hoping to relax. But her eyes slid over the words without seeing them as she wondered what was happening back at Kessel Run.

Around half-past-two she got an answer. Through the curtains she saw a pair of headlights roll slowly by, then turn into her driveway. She snapped on the front porch light to find Ben sprinting across the grass, trying to get out of the rain as quickly as possible. She had the door open before he could raise a hand to knock.

“I saw your lights on,” he panted, shedding water from his hair and coat. His breath was visible in the night air.

“I couldn’t sleep. Did you run away from home?”

He offered a small smile. “Nah, I got thrown out. So like any good juvenile delinquent, I stole my dad’s truck as payback.” He had both hands shoved deep into his pockets, but he pulled out a too-large ring of keys and shook them as evidence.

She stood back from the doorway, holding her sweater closed to keep out the chill. “Come and dry off before you catch pneumonia.”

The living room felt smaller with two people in it, particularly when one of them was as imposing as Ben. “Give me your coat. I’ll hang it by the radiator,” she ordered, before leaving to fetch a towel from the bathroom. He was surveying the space with curiosity when she came back. The jumbled wall shelves were home to as many houseplants as they were books. A string of Christmas lights she had never taken down two years ago lit up a dark back corner. And on the wall over her desk, rows and rows of neatly organized—

“Post-it notes,” he chuckled, pointing. “That’s the truck plan, isn’t it?”

“Know-it-all,” she retorted, tossing the towel over his head to dry his dripping hair. “Sit down and tell me what happened.” The couch had belonged to Maz, as had most of the furniture in the house. It was serviceable, but nothing at all to look at. The two of them barely fit on it together.

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, rubbing the towel roughly over the back of his head.

“Since I was three.”

“This was your grandmother’s house?”

She glanced around, picturing Maz napping in her favorite reading chair by the window. “Yeah, she left it to me when she died.”

He smirked. “Should I make the obvious joke?”

She took the damp towel from him and tossed it aside. “Please don’t. Now quit stalling. What happened?”

“Nothing unexpected. My mother damn near lost her mind when she found out what Han was planning. They started screaming at each other and I just kinda sat back and watched for a while. Then I got dragged back into it and pretty soon, Mom was encouraging me to ‘get some air.’ I told them not to wait up and I left.” Her face must have shown her disappointment. “You weren’t actually expecting us to patch things up, were you? Maybe you don’t understand my family as well as I thought. This is how it plays out with us, every time. For the next few days, maybe a week, the house’ll be dead silent. Nobody’ll be speaking to each other. Then gradually, it’ll thaw out. Don’t worry, Rey. It’s been like this my whole life."

“Will Han back down?”

Ben shrugged. “He’s pretty goddamned stubborn when he wants to be. But I can’t see him holding out long against my mother. She was _pissed_.” He sounded awestruck. “She’s little but you do not want to cross her.”

“You’re not reacting to this like I thought you would,” Rey admitted. “When you came running onto the porch I thought for sure you’d gotten into a fistfight and the police were after you. But you almost seem…pleased?”

“Not pleased, no. I wish this whole stupid thing never happened. I will admit, in a deeply perverse, dysfunctional way, it was nice to have someone go to bat for me. Two someones,” he amended, guiding a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

She caught his hand and held it against her neck, tracing the strong bones of his wrist with her thumb. The cuff of his shirt was wet. Before she could second-guess the impulse, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Ben sighed into her mouth. When she pulled back, the want on his face made her stomach lurch with anticipation.

“Yes, thank you,” she said softly, twisting to place a kiss in his palm.

He looked confused, blinked hard. “What?”

“You were about to ask if you could stay here tonight and I’m saying, yes, I want you to. Thank you for asking.”

He let out a little rasping breath. “That’s not why I…I could sleep on the couch.”

“It gets awfully cold in here. Better to be safe and stay in my room.” She stood up slowly, never letting go of his arm. Ben didn’t move, just stared up at her, eyes hazy with…disbelief? Fear? What could he possibly have to be afraid of? “Are you alright?” she whispered, moving to stand between his knees. “Am I pushing too hard? Do you not want to?”

He laughed raggedly, then rested his forehead on the soft fabric of her sleep shirt. It was a set she had had since high school, fern green and well worn. “You cannot believe how much I want to,” he groaned. She combed her fingers through his damp hair. His exhalation was hot against her skin.

“Tell me what’s going on in here,” she ordered, tapping a fingertip lightly against his forehead.

“Too many things. Too many…thoughts.”

“Like what?”

He slid his palms up and down the backs of her calves. His hands were shaking. “How incredible you feel. And smell. How badly I don’t want to screw this up.”

“You won’t,” she assured him.

“I will, Rey. It’s what I do. What I’ve always done. Just ask my father. He’ll be happy to tell you what a fuck up I am. That’s why he was so angry tonight. He didn’t even care about the farm. He was enraged because he thought I was using you.”

She knelt down in front of him, traced the line of his arms. “Are you? Using me?”

“No,” he said simply.

“No, of course you aren’t. Even though I’d probably let you,” she teased. She gave him a steady look and let her sweater drop to the floor. One of the thin straps of her shirt slid with it.

He was a mess, hair disheveled, face flushed. There was a struggle for restraint in his expression, like a race horse desperate to run. Rey wasn’t used to feeling as powerful as she did, savoring it all. She wanted to do things she could regret later on. Better that than regretting letting him go, knowing she missed the chance to share this with him.

“I trust you,” she promised, kissing him again, letting her tongue slip bashfully past his bottom lip. “And earlier I was promised _seduction_ ,” she breathed against the hollow beneath his ear. Ben whimpered.

“Stay with me,” she said. “Please.”

She held out a hand and he took it.  
  


~~~~~

When she woke up, the space next to her was empty. It was just dawn, dark in the rain that beat a steady cadence on the window glass. The sheets were still warm, so he couldn’t have gotten up very long ago. Maybe he decided he had to get Han’s truck back before the older man really did report him to the police.

She was running through equally stupid and unconvincing excuses for him to have left when she heard the water tap run in the bathroom. Relief rushed through her. The bedroom door opened with a squeak of old hinges, then the mattress sagged as he climbed back under the covers and settled her body against his.

“It’s freezing out there,” he murmured, burying his nose in her hair.

“Better stay close then,” she advised. “It’s nice and warm here.”

“So warm. And soft.” His voice filled the space beneath the blankets. He trailed a hand across her hip. “A little ticklish, which is a nice feature.”

She giggled helplessly, squirming in his grasp. “I thought we agreed no tickling.”

“I think you proposed a ban. I don’t remember a formal vote.”

She rolled over, fitting herself snugly into his side.

“Hi,” she whispered, brushing the hair back from his eyes.

“Hey,” he answered gently. The comforting tick of his watch grew louder, then softer, as he stroked her shoulder blade.

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Sleep is overrated,” he quoted.

“I agree.” She traced the bridge of his nose, coaxing a smile from him. “You are so totally grounded when you get home.”

He snorted. “Worth it.”

“Yeah?” Strange that she should feel this flutter of insecurity now, after everything that had happened between them in the past few hours.

“Yeah,” he reassured her, leaning down to draw his lips along the length of her collarbone. The world outside might be cold, but that wasn’t what was making her shiver.


	10. Chapter 10

“Where do you want these?” Ben grunted, carrying a stack of apple crates into the prep room behind the tea shop.

“Right there, thanks,” Rose pointed to the corner nearest Paige, who was washing apples in an enormous stainless-steel sink, then passing them in colanders to Rey for vivisection. Rose was manning the stove, where pots of caramel were bubbling merrily. The entire room smelled like sugary heaven.

“I thought they tell kids to avoid apples for Halloween. Razor blades or something?” Ben commented, polishing a piece of fruit on the flannel of his sleeve and taking a loud bite.

“It wouldn’t be very good for our business model to hand out apples stuffed with razor blades, now would it?” Rose asked wryly.

Every year, the commercial district in Chandrila hosted a Halloween trick-or-treat in daylight hours for its smallest residents. It was a popular event that garnered a lot of public goodwill for small enterprises like Tico Teas. And grownups that came in to collect free slices of caramel apple were likely to walk out with hot beverages for the rest of their outdoor adventures.

“Okay, I’m back. I got the last six rolls of wax paper in the entire county.” Poe rushed into the kitchen, shucking off his coat and presenting the load of thin boxes to Paige. “Where do you want these, Pae-Pae?”

Ben choked on his apple. Rey looked at Rose, whose eyes were already fixed hard on the ceiling. When Rose glanced back, Rey mouthed, “Pae-Pae?”

“Could you take them up front and line the trays I laid out, then we’ll bring them back in here stacked for apple slices?” Paige instructed, kissing Poe on the cheek. “And thank you for doing that. You’re a life saver.”

As soon as Poe passed through the swinging door into the shop, Paige gave them all a scathing look. “He is kind and sweet and ah-maz-ing in bed.” Ben made a retching noise. “I don’t want to hear another word from _you_ , Benjamin, after all the pining and swooning we’ve had to put up with from this one—” she pointed accusingly at Rey, who turned scarlet, “—for the past month. Let people enjoy things!” And with that, she snatched up a dish towel to dry her hands and went out to check on Poe’s progress.

“Pining _and_ swooning, huh?” Ben asked in the silence that followed, and got a slice of apple tossed at his head in reply. “So what’s the plan here?” he chuckled, dropping his apple core into the compost bowl.

Rose gave one of the pots an experimental stir and sampled the caramel inside with a tiny wooden testing spoon. “The caramel is pretty much ready. As soon as they have the trays papered, we start the assembly line. We wash, slice and dip apples until we run out of fruit or kids, whichever comes first.”

Paige and Poe came back through the swinging door carrying the heavy stack of metal food trays between them. “Let’s get this party started!” Poe whooped. Rey smothered a laugh against her sleeve.

Ben was evaluating the crates of apples. “So red are caramel and green are honey?” he asked. Everyone stared at him. “What?” he added defensively.

“What did you say?” Rose demanded.

“I asked if the crates of red apples are for the caramel and the green apples are for the honey. Is that wrong?”

“Who said anything about honey?” Paige asked.

“You two make and sell honey, right?” Ben was looking more and more confused. “Don’t you ever eat honey on apples? It’s good. Green apples are best because they’re tart.”

Paige looked at Rose, who shrugged. She grabbed a green apple slice from Rey’s heaping pile. Poe crossed the kitchen for a bottle of their wildflower honey and handed it to her. She drizzled dark amber stripes over the slice and popped it into her mouth. Then she looked at Ben. “I forgive you,” she said, chewing. “I may even kiss you later, when they aren’t around.”

“Hey, hey, no need for tha—” Poe laughed, but Paige stuck a honey-covered slice into his mouth. He began to nod vigorously. “Actually, I may kiss you, too, man. That’s really good.”

“We could sell this in the shop, Rosie, arranged in a pretty glass dish or something. Maybe with some little flowers on the side? And a punny name!”

Rose was already dialing her phone. “Babe? Can you do me a huge favor? Can you go over to the house and get something for me? Grab every bottle of honey in the storage pantry, throw them into any bag or basket you can find, and bring them to the shop, okay? Yeah, all of them. We’re gonna put out a lot for the Halloween thing. It starts in a couple of hours. Oh, and grab that orange ribbon left over from the festival. It’s all piled on my craft table in the back room…”

As Rose issued increasingly detailed instructions to Armie, Paige beckoned Poe back into the shop to rearrange things and make room for a larger sales display. Rey sidled up to Ben and leaned against his arm, smiling at him.

“What just happened?” he asked, bewildered.

“You helped my friends.”

Through the door to the shop, they heard Paige yell, “What if we hollowed out the apple and put the honey _inside it_?” with as much excitement as if she had made a monumental scientific discovery.  
  


~~~~~

“Thirty-six…thirty-seven…thirty-eight. Holy hell, you guys, we sold two hundred-and-thirty-eight dollars’ worth of honey. The line to kiss Ben forms at the right!” Rose called jubilantly across the shop.

“That is a one-person role and the position is currently filled, thank you very much,” said Rey, wiping the sticky residue of many little hands from a table top.

Ben was stacking chairs so they could wash the shop floor. His demeanor was subtly different, a shade more relaxed than usual. She might go so far as to say he was enjoying himself. “No need to be hasty.”

“Oh, no?” She hooked his elbow with a sudsy hand as he attempted to pass and pulled him close. “Looking to interview other candidates, are you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be rude,” he teased before kissing her soundly. The bright, sharp taste of a Granny Smith still lingered in his mouth.

At that moment, Armie backed through the swinging door from the kitchen balancing a stack of pizza boxes he had just picked up. “Get a room, you two.”

“We’ll be sure and do that, Armitage,” Ben said with exaggerated politeness. Rey jabbed him. Since Ben learned his full name, he refused to call Rose’s boyfriend anything else. Poe found the joke consistently hilarious and chortled now.

Armie gave Ben a look of utter disdain as he deposited the pizza boxes on a clean table. He rounded on Poe. “I don’t know what you find so funny. I heard you and Paige earlier discussing your plans for _alternative_ honey uses. Nearly lost my lunch. No offense, Paige.”

Paige shook her head in amazement. “Why would I ever take offense at that?”

“Everybody play nice,” Rose ordered from the register, inserting bundles of cash into a bank deposit bag. “We had a great day and you are all currently my favorite people in the world.”

“All of us?” Ben whispered into Rey’s hair, shooting a look in Poe’s direction. She stomped on his foot in reply.

~~~~~

“We were in the shower so long the hot water ran out, but somehow I still smell caramel,” Rey complained. She sat cross-legged on the end of the bed, pulling a comb through her wet hair.

Ben was propped against the headboard, a stack of her bedside reading material on his lap. He scanned the titles. “ _Farming the Woods: An Integrated Permaculture Approach to Growing Food and Medicinals in Temperate Forests._ Sounds like a real page turner. _Let It Rot! The Gardener’s Guide to Composting._ Edgy. _Dirt to Soil: One Family’s Journey into Regenerative Agriculture._ Well, you are nothing if not consistent.”

“You were hoping for something else?” she wondered, working a knot loose. “Self-help? Stephen King? Erotica?”

“I wasn’t hoping for anything in particular,” he objected. “I mean, I wouldn’t have minded erotica.” He restacked the books on the night stand and grabbed the comforter with both hands, dragging her up the bed toward him.

She squeaked in an altogether undignified manner as he grasped her hips and pulled her the last few inches into his arms. “You’re saying you don’t like my books?”

“I’m sure they’re helpful for insomnia.”

“Mean.”

“I’m just wondering if you ever do anything unrelated to the farm?”

Her face was a picture of innocence. “Do you count? I guess technically you don—”

She couldn’t finish the sentence under the onslaught of tickling that followed. When she was gasping for air, pinned under his weight on the mattress, Ben said, “I’m serious, Rey. What do you do with your free time? The truck doesn’t count.”

“Why doesn’t the truck count?” she pushed back.

“Because everything you use it for is a farm job. Food crate deliveries, hauling cider and donuts. I bet you’ve already got a local photographer picked out in your head for getting its picture on your future website, probably with Chewie artfully posed in the bed.”

“That is a brilliant—” she began, but he cut her off with a kiss that stole her remaining breath.

“You’re avoiding my question.”

She thought for a moment. “Rose and I have been talking about her teaching me to knit.”

He frowned suspiciously. “Because you wanted to learn, for fun? Or because you thought adding handmade knit goods to your stall at the farmers market would improve business?”

She blanched. “Seriously, are you psychic? It’s a bit scary how easily you read other people’s minds.”

His frown disappeared. “Only yours,” he admitted quietly, nuzzling her throat.

“What am I thinking right now?” she asked huskily.

He laughed against the curve of her shoulder. “That’s so easy I’m not going to dignify it with a response.”

“Overconfident. I was thinking how lovely it was to see you interacting with my friends today. At one point, you seemed dangerously near to enjoying yourself.”

Ben was concentrating so hard on a row of tiny buttons running down the front of her camisole that an adorable crease formed in the center of his brow. “Some of your friends are more enjoyable than others.”

“You can’t reasonably blame me for Poe,” she protested.

“The hell I can’t. If you’d let me ignore him when I wanted to, he’d have never met that Paige girl. That’s one hundred percent on you.”

“Dammit. Hey, speaking of difficult people…”

He finally managed to get the last button undone, but his moment of triumph was cut short. He stared at her, aggrieved. “You can’t possibly want to talk about my parents right now. You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“I meant to ask you earlier and I forgot in all the excitement. I was just wondering if things had settled down enough that I can go over there tomorrow. It’s been a few days. I miss it. I miss them.”

It had been frosty inside the old farmhouse since the night of the costume party. Ben and Leia were on speaking terms but Han was avoiding both of them. The older man left the house before first light and came home late enough to go straight from the dinner table to bed. The silence over the casserole dish was deafening.

“You can go over there whenever you want, Rey. Whenever you feel ready to deal with him. He’s probably waiting for you to come up so he can defend himself. I’m sure he wants to talk to you more than he does me.”

“He’s still angry at you?” She traced the edge of his watchband with a fingertip.

“He’s been angry at me since I was like ten years old. Only the reason changes. Right now, he’s mad I told Mom about his plans for the farm and she sided with me. He’s mad you sided with me and haven’t been by the past few days. He’s extremely mad that I’m sleeping here. I ruined his life by refusing to follow in his footsteps and then I ruined it again by corrupting his chosen successor. It’s a regular Greek tragedy.”

“Surely it’s not so dramatic?”

“No? I’m his son but he clearly thinks of you like a daughter. He’s just waiting to say, _I told you so_ , when he finds out I’ve abandoned you, barefoot and pregnant.”

“Then I will definitely go over there tomorrow. It sounds like I need to remind him that I have a mind of my own and I’m perfectly capable of making my own choices in life.”

“Your own mistakes, he’ll tell you.” He was rubbing the scalloped edge of the fabric, face clouded. She suspected he was thinking of a time when Han had given him the same warning. Tipping his chin up so she could look into his eyes, she said, “This isn’t a mistake. You aren’t a mistake, Ben. No matter how it ends. I’m exactly where I want to be, remember?”

She pushed him gently onto his back and rolled to straddle his hips. As he reached for her face, burying both hands in her wet hair, the ticking of the watch filled her hearing. “What’s the story behind this watch?” she asked curiously.

“Story?” he said distractedly. “It was a, uh, graduation present. You want me to take it off?” He began to fumble with the buckle. She almost stopped him until she caught sight of an inscription on the back of the case. She took the leather band from him and carefully examined it. In an elegant script it read, _Ad Astra_. “What does it mean?”

“It’s Latin, from Virgil, I think. It means, ‘To the stars.’”

A little ember of hope began to flare in her chest. “Who gave you this?”

He understood where she was going, sighed deeply. “My father did.”

As she suspected. “Can I ask what the inscription means? Did he tell you why he chose it?”

“He said he went hunting through _Bartlett’s Quotations_ for the shortest, smartest sounding thing he could find. You know Han. He called me ‘Professor’ that whole summer.”

“That wasn’t really why he chose it, though.”

Ben shifted beneath her, then went still. “When I was eight or nine, my mother had to go on a lobbying trip to the capital. Somehow, she persuaded Dad to take a few days off so we could all go. She made this whole list of suggestions, things for us to do while she was in her meetings, but we liked the Air and Space Museum so much we went back every day. There was this giant sculpture outside the front doors where we’d eat our lunch. Clusters of metal stars on top of a huge pole. Dad really loved it. He joked that we should build one at Kessel Run when we got home. Class the place up, he said. It was called _Ad Astra_.” By the time he finished, his eyes were glassy.

“He wanted you to carry that memory with you. And he wanted to encourage you to follow your dreams. So he took all that love and pride that he felt—that he still feels—and etched it into the back of this watch.” She held it up. “This watch that you never take off.”

She leaned forward and kissed away a tear threatening to fall. “He loves you, Ben,” she whispered. “And you love him. Don’t you dare give up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Wookieepedia, Pae-Pae is Paige's actual nickname. It was too delicious to resist.
> 
> I'm still working on polishing ch. 11, so it will likely be early next week before that's up.


	11. Chapter 11

Han was in the barn binding up bunches of sunflower heads to dry over winter. It was normally a job Rey took care of and it hurt her heart a little to see him doing it, as if he didn’t trust that she would ever come back. He looked up warily as her shadow fell over the giant golden brooms in his lap. “You come to yell at me, too?”

“Nope. No yelling from me.” She straddled the workbench he was sitting on. Chewie lay sprawled across a pile of dusty burlap sacks in the corner, joyously chasing something through his dreams.

Han cinched a tight knot around the cut stalks. “Good. I don’t like to brag, but there’s a waiting list these days. It would’ve been awfully embarrassing if I had to ask you to come back another time.”

She rummaged around in her bag. “I brought you something. A peace offering.”

“Didn’t realize we were at war,” he answered ruefully, but he chuckled when she tugged out a freezer bag and presented it to him. “Boy, things are worse than I thought if you’re breaking out the homemade trail mix.”

“It’s a new one I’m trying out for fall, caramel with cinnamon sugar. You’re my guinea pig.”

“Sounds like real health food.” He unsealed the bag and tipped it toward her first.

“Maz used to say that there aren’t many problems in life that can’t be resolved with honest conversation and shared food,” she managed between bites.

Han chewed thoughtfully on a handful of the mix. “Not bad, kid. Not bad at all. But I don’t think you’ll ever top the one with the cayenne pepper and Tabasco sauce. That was—” He stopped abruptly as Rey produced a second plastic bag of mix.

“Your favorite. I haven’t forgotten.”

He took the second bag with a pained expression. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble. I’m the one that should be trying to make things up to you. I screwed up big time, didn’t I?”

“I wish you had talked to me about it, maybe before you made your big announcement. I could have spared you a lot of grief by telling you that I could never accept such a gift, as amazingly generous as it was of you.”

He waved dismissively. “None of that. Don’t make me out to be Mother Teresa. We both know what a crock that would be.”

Chewie huffed and snorted, legs jerking more and more rapidly. He was clearly gaining on his imaginary prey.

“I’ve been thinking, wondering really, about why you suddenly decided to do something so…dramatic. I have a couple of theories. Would you like to hear them?”

Han sighed, then stood to hang the bunch he had just finished tying. “Is this part of my penance?”

Rey ignored the question. “Theory one: you truly believed Ben didn’t care what happened to the farm and you were surprised at his reaction, but too stubborn to admit it. Theory two—and this is the one I’m leaning toward, if I’m being honest—you thought maybe if you threatened to take the farm away from him, he’d realize that he actually did want it. Maybe he’d even come home before you weren’t here to see it.”

Han climbed a stepladder, just tall enough to enable him to hang the bunch upside down from the hooks she’d screwed into the rafters five years before. She realized he wasn’t wearing his sling anymore. He glanced back over his shoulder, “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just wanted you to have something good happen in your life? That you earned it by being here all these years?”

She picked up a half dozen stalks and began binding them. “If someone’s a good employee, you buy them lunch on their work anniversary. A nice gift card at the holidays. You don’t will them a hundred acres of land and the house you raised your family in.”

“You’re more than an employee, Rey,” he said gruffly. He was still on the ladder, back to her. “I know I’m an old dinosaur and it might not be ‘politically correct’ for me to say it. But I think of you like my own daughter.”

The sunflowers blurred in her hands. “And you’ve been like a father to me. I don’t know what I would have done after Maz died if I hadn’t found my way here. I’m grateful to you and Leia for being so good to me all these years. But Han, you have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known. You can care about me without it coming at Ben’s expense.”

The ladder wobbled a little as he reached the ground. Chewie’s head jerked up at the noise but he settled as soon as he determined that all was well with his master.

Han sat heavily on the workbench. “So…you and Ben, huh?”

Her face felt warm. Somehow, talking openly like this was more embarrassing than the night he caught them kissing. She managed to nod. “Me and Ben.” When he didn’t continue, she prompted, “You disapprove?”

“Does it matter?” he asked, spreading his hands wide in amusement. “Leia’s tickled pink, if you’re looking for approval. She’s convinced this is the best thing that’s ever happened to the family. You’re the Chosen One who’s gonna solve every problem we've got. Ben’ll come home, he and I’ll start over, then you two will supply us with pretty grandbabies. She’s got it all mapped out. Probably got a hall reserved already.”

She handed him a tied bundle and began a second. “You don’t see it happening that way?”

“Look, kid, I know none of that is any of my business. But if you’re asking me to be honest? It seems to me there’s more ways than not it ends badly for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, say you and Ben date for a while and then he up and leaves Chandrila. Wouldn’t be the first time. Now you’re heartbroken and maybe you don’t want to spend a lot of time around Ben’s parents, in the house Ben grew up in. So he’s gone again and now I’ve lost you, too. Or suppose you decide you’re madly in love and when it comes time for him to leave Chandrila, he wants you to go with him. Same result.”

Rey paused in securing her knots. “It hurt you very much when he left to join the service.”

Han stood up abruptly from the bench, paced to the other side of the room. “You know, there’s nothing worse in the world than watching your kid go down a path you know will end badly and not being able to do a damn thing to stop him. I was in the military when I was fresh out of school, did I ever tell you that? One of the worst experiences of my life. Leia’s father was a career guy, a real piece of work. When he died, there were even rumors it was friendly fire. Her mother fed Ben all these stories about him when Ben was little. A lot of flag waving, honor and glory BS. Leia knows what her father was really like, but she’d never let me set Ben straight. She was afraid he was too young, that he’d be traumatized. Next thing I know, he’s telling me he’s joined up and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“That must have been incredibly painful. It must have felt like he was rejecting you and everything important to you.”

He shook his head. “Not everything in the world is about me. Shocking, I know. Ben has to make his own way in the world, like I did. Like we all do. I just don’t want to see you get caught in the crossfire.”

“I think you need to have a little more faith in me. Your concern is very touching but I’m a big girl and I know what I’m doing. He’s been honest with me from the first about his intention to leave Chandrila. Am I hoping he’ll change his mind? I’d be lying if I didn’t say yes. But I won’t feel deceived or betrayed if he doesn’t. And I won’t abandon you or Kessel Run.”

He looked dubious. “So you won’t mind if he takes this job?”

The binder twine was rough against her fingers. She was pulling it too tight. “Job?”

“He hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what, exactly?”

Han huffed in exasperation. “Great, now I’m the asshole that ratted him out to his girlfriend. Add that to my long list of crimes.” He grabbed the two finished sunflower bundles and moved the stepladder under an empty set of hooks. “His old commanding officer keeps calling the house. Creepy guy named Snoke. Ben doesn’t have a phone so he can’t reach him any other way. He’s trying to recruit Ben to come work for some organization he’s forming. Sounds shady as hell if you ask me. Probably black ops mercenary stuff that Ben’s better off being far away from. But don’t tell him I said that or he’ll take the job tonight. If he hasn’t already.”

Rey took a steadying breath. Hadn’t she just told Han that she knew what she was doing? That she could handle Ben leaving? “He hasn’t said anything about a job offer, but I do know he doesn’t have a good opinion of that man.” She picked at a seed in one of the brooms still stacked next to the workbench. The seed didn’t budge; it wasn’t ready to let go. Was she?

She realized Han was watching her from the ladder. “I’m not pretending it won’t hurt if he goes. Even if he doesn’t take this job, another opportunity will come along some day. But I can’t force him to stay and I wouldn’t want to. He needs to find a place where he’s happy, where he feels like he can belong.”

She rifled through her bag and found something that she carried across the room and handed to Han. “I think he could be happy here. But not until the two of you start to get past all this disappointment and hurt between you. You need to see him for who he is, not for who you hoped he’d be or feared he’d be. Maybe a place to start is knowing that he does love this farm. He does care about what happens to it. He’s talented and he has good ideas. He likes helping people. If you made him feel welcome here, wanted, he could become an amazing steward of this land.”

Han was still staring at the piece of paper Rey had thrust into his hands. He touched a fingertip to its surface and she knew he was tracing a tiny tractor. “Is this me?” he asked quietly.

“The two of you are so alike, so idiotically stubborn. You’re desperate for him to come home and he wants to be here so badly it’s tearing him apart. You love each other so much it’s bursting out of you, mostly in anger. You want me to have something good in life? I want Ben. Talk to him, Han. If you won’t do it for yourself, or for Leia, do it for me.”

~~~~~

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Ben called as he came down the hill.

She was raking leaves onto a tarp so she could load them more easily into the tractor wagon. “I’m gonna need a little bit more to go on before I answer.”

“You’re back here a few hours and already hard at work.”

Rey gestured to the large, colorful pile. “Just look at all these magnificent leaves begging to go into our new compost bins. How could I pass these up?” He was wearing a worn old barn coat she recognized as Han’s. “Nice jacket,” she teased.

He quirked an eyebrow. “I didn’t come prepared to stay for months. It was like summer when I got here, remember?”

She nodded carefully. “I do remember. It feels longer than six weeks, though, doesn’t it?”

“In some ways,” he agreed. “Hey, what exactly did you do to my father?”

She dropped the rake and began to drag the tarp toward the wagon. Ben grabbed the corner closest to him. “What do you mean? He was fine when I left him.”

“I’ll say. He came into the house after you two talked. I was reading a book in the living room and he just came in and sat down with me. He never does that. He told me you showed him the logo. Said he liked it.”

_Liked_ was an understatement. Staring at Ben’s drawing was as close as Han had ever come to crying in her presence. “I knew he would love it the second I saw it,” she reminded him.

“He also said,” Ben huffed as he helped her lift the enormous tarp and dump its contents in the wagon, “that he knew he screwed up about the farm. That he honestly didn’t think I would care and he handled it badly. He actually apologized, Rey.” He sounded thunderstruck.

She had to bite the inside of her lip to contain the gratitude that rushed through her. “That’s amazing. I’m so glad you two finally talked.”

He shook the tarp clear then dropped it to the ground. “Well, it wasn’t all sweetness and light. He threatened to murder me and hide my body in the pond if I ever hurt you. Said even Mom would back him up on it. He’s not wrong.”

Rey laughed and buried her face in his chest. “Surely it won’t come to that.”

He brushed back the hair that had come loose from her ponytail. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said quietly. Her stomach dropped but she managed to keep her expression neutral. Ben reached down suddenly and grasped her around the waist, lifting her up onto the back of the wagon. He settled between her knees, picking bits of leaves from her sweater. “I’m thinking about going back to Lothal.”

“Oh,” she breathed.

“Hear me out. I’m thinking it’s pretty stupid for me to be paying rent on an empty apartment. I was hoping, since it’s November and the farm is reasonably quiet this time of year, that you might be willing to come with me. We can see the sights then rent a car to come back. Everything in that place would probably fit in the trunk.”

She felt vaguely light-headed. “Sounds like you’ve given it some thought.”

He flashed a crooked grin. “I’ve been entertaining the idea for a while.”

“But Han said something about a job offer.”

“Yeah, he confessed to that, too. You really did a number on him. The reason I didn’t mention it was because I never had any intention of taking it. There’s no way I’d ever go back to Snoke. The guy’s a psychopath.”

Rey felt a wave of happiness so intense it was frightening. “So, if you aren’t taking that job and you want to let go of the apartment in Lothal, does that mean…?”

He reached for her hands. It was cold enough, even in the late afternoon sunshine, that she was wearing a pair of bright purple mittens, another gift from Rose. He pulled each mitten off in turn, laying them next to her on the wagon. Then he slid his fingers through hers. “It means, if you want me, I’ll stay.”

She pulled him forward, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him, and covered his face with kisses. “Of course…I want you…to stay.” Ben laughed helplessly.

“There’s only one downside, as far as I can see,” he admitted, when she finally relinquished his lips.

“What’s that?”

“It’s extremely irritating to think about how happy my coming back to the farm is gonna make Dad.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments. Writing this little story has given me a lot of joy over the past few weeks. I hope it gave you some, too.

“Have I told you how much I like this dress?” Ben whispered against her ear.

Rey thought carefully. “Um, only twenty-eight or -nine times since I got here.” She rinsed a delicate china plate edged with sprays of yellow roses and handed it to him.

“Let’s make it an even thirty, shall we?” He kissed her temple, then took the plate to wipe it down with an already-damp dishtowel.

She reached into the soapy water and came back with a heavy platter, which two hours earlier had carried a turkey to the dining room table. “Tell me as many times as you like. I don’t mind one bit.”

“I didn’t even know you owned a dress,” he teased, adding the dry plate to a small stack on the counter next to them.

“Joke’s on you. It’s my only one. You won’t believe this—” she glanced over her shoulder, into the living room where Han and Leia both dozed in front of a muted football game, ”—but I bought it years ago, thinking I would need something nice to wear to job interviews. I never ended up wearing it to a single one.”

The dress was demure, chocolate brown with a modest collar and little white embroidered flowers. She had rolled the long sleeves up to her elbows when she insisted that Leia allow her to do the dishes. Leia and Han had done all the Thanksgiving cooking, after all.

Ben took the platter carefully, with both hands. Leia explained earlier that it had belonged to Great-Grandma Jobal, she of the famous chicken pot pie recipe. Once he placed it safely on the kitchen island, he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I like all the buttons,” he murmured. “Makes me think about _unbuttoning_ them.”

“Shhhhh,” she cautioned. He pushed her hair aside and began nuzzling the hollow below her ear, making her sigh with pleasure. “Do you know what I realized earlier?” she asked quietly, turning her attention away from the gravy boats in the bottom of the sink.

“What’s that?”

She mouthed the words silently. “I’ve never seen your room.”

His face seemed to go blank for a heartbeat, as if his brain had short-circuited, then he collected himself. “I’m fairly sure I can make that happen,” he breathed against her lips.

“We have to finish the dishes first,” Rey reminded him.

He groaned in mock frustration then pulled away to begin rapidly drying the gravy boats.

“Don’t forget, we promised to make an appearance at Rose and Paige’s tonight.”

“What is that again?”

The dishwater had gone cold so she drained the sink for refilling before washing all the pots and pans. “Every year they host a Thanksgiving game night at their house. Anyone who wants to drop by can come over and play cards or board games. You’re also encouraged to bring your favorite leftovers, and Rose makes these amazing turkey pie concoctions that everyone grazes on while they play. You go home when you can’t stay awake a minute longer.”

“I assume Armitage will be there?” he asked archly, lifting the stack of plates into the cupboard.

“I think that’s a safe assumption. Can you try to be nice to him, please? Rose is my best friend and it won’t do for the two of you to dislike each other. Speaking of which, Paige said Poe will be there later, after he has family dinner with his son.”

“Great,” Ben groused. “Board games _and_ Poe? What could be better?”

Rey laughed. “I tend to stick to the Uno table myself. You’re welcome to keep me company.”

The radio on the window sill was playing Han’s oldies station at low volume. Rey closed her eyes in delight. “I love this song,” she said, swaying a little in time with the melody. A moment later, Ben tugged her away from the sink. He dried her hands with the dishtowel, then tossed it onto the island and pulled her into his arms. “I do, too,” he told her, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Wanna dance?”

“I thought you had to be drunk to dance?” she teased, winding her arms around his neck.

“In public,” he clarified.

“Ah, I see,” she smirked.

Behind them, Han loudly cleared his throat. “Can’t you two sneak off to the haymow like normal people?”

“Do you mind?” Ben asked, resting his chin on Rey’s head. There was no animosity in his voice this time, only amusement.

“Look, I just want some of those deviled eggs. Maybe a refrigerator pickle or two. I can only get those here in my kitchen. You two can…canoodle anywhere.” He waved them aside with a sweep of his hand.

Rey wrapped her arms around Ben’s waist. “Han, there’s something I meant to tell you but it slipped my mind in all the commotion before dinner. Jannah called me yesterday. She was speaking to the high school environmental club before the holiday break. She says there’s a student who’s just exceptional—a ‘born leader,’ she called her—who’s a junior. This young woman volunteered to be the student liaison on the garden project we talked about. The club’s already making plans, reaching out to the teachers about different ways to incorporate the garden into their curricula. They want to start planting this spring.”

Han wrestled the egg container from deep inside the refrigerator. “Does this prodigy have a name?”

“I think Jannah said she’s called Enfys Nest.”

Han thought a minute. “Nest…Nest. Don’t know that name. Who are her people?”

Rey shrugged. “It really never occurred to me to ask.”

“It’s not the 1950s anymore, Dad,” Ben said with mock sympathy. “You’ll just have to meet her and judge her on her own merits, instead of deciding in advance that you know something about her based on her family tree.”

“Very funny,” Han retorted, swallowing an egg before turning back to the fridge in search of additional snacks. “You kids today are so much more enlightened than we cave men ever were.”

“It’s good that you recognize that,” Ben deadpanned.

“Didn’t your mother tell me that you two were going out after Thanksgiving dinner?” Han asked hopefully.

Rey let go of Ben to start the second round of washing. “That’s not until tonight. We have hours yet. Lucky you.”

“Lucky me,” Han repeated morosely. From the living room, Leia snored loudly. Chewie, draped over her feet like a blanket, lifted his head in annoyance at begin woken up. “Sounds like your mother’s out for a while.”

“She did get up at six to start prepping the turkey,” Ben pointed out.

“True enough. Any of that apple cobbler left?”

“I think Leia put it back in the mudroom to stay cold when we ran out of space in the fridge,” Rey offered. Han set off in search of dessert.

Once he was gone, Ben bent over the kitchen counter and asked softly, “I thought you wanted to see my room?”

The sink was now refilled with hot water and she carefully set each pot and pan in to soak. “Your bedroom that sits right over the living room?” she questioned with a small smile. “I think we’d better come up with an alternative activity for the afternoon. Oh! Do you still have the projector and home movies you told me about? I’d love to see them.”

Han came back into the kitchen clutching a pie carrier. “Sorry, kid. I think Ben’s uncle got all that stuff when Ami died. I’m pretty sure he had those film reels put onto a DVD for us. I’d have to dig it out, though.”

She took a scrub pad to a large baking dish. “Don’t go to any trouble. I was thinking, though, wouldn’t it be fun to project movies outside next summer? Maybe we could hang something on the barn and have Movie Night at the Farm? We could find a film in the public domain—Charlie Chaplin, maybe, or Buster Keaton—and we could donate the proceeds to the county food bank. What do you think?”

When no one answered, she turned around in confusion. Ben and Han were leaning against the island, arms crossed in unconscious identical poses, both their faces shining with affection for her. She wished she could take a photograph of them.

“You better get her outta here,” Han chuckled. “Distract her or she’s gonna start working up a budget on a napkin.” He grabbed a fork and the pie carrier and headed back to the living room.

“Come on,” Ben coaxed. “The pans will keep.”

“Where are we going?”

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’ve never actually made out with anybody in a haymow.”

~~~~~

“It’s bloody freezing up here.”

“Don’t look at me. I voted for the nice warm bed in the nice warm house.”

“Remind me, is that the bed with your parents ten feet below it?”

“Minor detail.” He nipped at her earlobe and she squeaked in surprise.

“I’m telling you right now,” she giggled, “whatever we’re doing out here, I’m not taking my coat off.”

His voice rumbled deep in his chest. “I can work with that.”

Rey began to snicker, and the more she tried to stop the more she laughed. Ben propped himself up on an elbow to smirk at her. “Sorry,” she managed, pulling in a deep, slow breath. “I think I’m just…really happy.”

He ran a thumb tenderly across her chin. “Me, too. Now where was I? Oh, yeah, all these tiny little buttons.”

“Hey,” she said, “there was something I wanted to ask you. Or tell you. Offer, I guess. Talking about your parents being so close to your bedroom...”

“Can we please _stop_ talking about that?” he begged, finding his way to the lacy edge of something silky under her dress.

“But it’s about that,” she protested weakly, as his lips and hands continued to explore. “I know it’s only been a few months and maybe this is absolutely bonkers, but if you ever decided that living at home was getting to be too much, you could always…that is…what I mean is, I have room. For you.”

He looked up in surprise. “You have room?” he repeated slowly. She nodded. “As in, you’re in the market for a roommate?”

“Well, there is only the one bedroom.”

Ben frowned. “I’m pretty sure I saw a second—”

“Nope,” she interrupted. “There’s only one available. Sorry. Non-negotiable.”

“We’d have to get a bigger bed. That’s non-negotiable, too.”

She made a show of pursing her lips and screwing up her face, as if debating whether to accept his terms. “Mmmm, I suppose I could do that.”

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, suddenly serious. “About me?”

She slid a hand around his neck and pulled him close. “I can’t think of anything I’ve ever been more sure of than you.”

His eyes were dark in the dim light of the loft. “I’m in love with you, Rey.”

“Good,” she whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “Cause I’m in love with you. That will make it less awkward living in the same house together.”

“I’ve been away from home for a long time,” he said apologetically. “I should probably stay here at least until the holidays are over.”

“Perfect. That will give me a chance to rearrange things, empty space in drawers and closets, all that. We can start a new year together.” She couldn’t resist adding, “I’m not sure your mother will be all that upset. Han told me a month ago she was researching wedding venues.”

He shook his head. “Another planner.”

“You Solo men do seem to go in for that sort of thing.”

He disentangled a piece of hay from her hair. “We’re at least smart enough to know a good thing when we see it.”

Doubt flitted across her mind like a shadow. “Are _you_ sure about this, about me? About coming back here to the farm with your father after all these years? I don’t want you to wake up one day and feel like I railroaded you into a life you didn’t actually want. Like you have no better options, so you just have to stay until you can’t take it anymore.” She could tell he recognized his own words from the night at the reservoir.

He laid down on the hay next to her, taking in her face. “I told you before, sweetheart. For maybe the first time in my life, I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Rey snuggled in close against his chest, heart singing. He was warm in the frigid air of the barn. “You know, the day Han told me you were coming home, he said you might only stay for a couple of hours or you might never leave. I’m lucky it worked out in my favor.”

He huffed. “I’ll check back with you in ten years or so, see if you still feel that way.”

She rubbed her cold nose against his. “Better make it fifty, just to be safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tend to prefer when very specific references, like song titles, are left out of fics. That way, if I don't know the song or I don't like it, it doesn't reduce my enjoyment of the story. But if you twist my arm and demand to know what song I was imagining in the kitchen scene, it was [this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OIaKy1vM9hs).

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from one of my all-time favorite quotes by Lucy Maud Montgomery, author of (among other things) the "Anne of Green Gables" series: "I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers."


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